Protecting the Defender, and Defending the Protector
by Tatiana Koch
Summary: BANE/OC. Long after the Joker and shortly after Bane's reign of destruction on the city, he's wasting away in a modified prison cell. Jim Gordon delivers a letter to Michelle Danvers, informing her that she has been appointed as his attorney. She agrees and takes the job. The two have a history. A history that was long forgotten. AU. Roleplay. Rated M for violence and romance.
1. Appointed Attorney

Hopefully, some of those who will read this story were loyal readers/reviewers of 'Gotham's Finest'. I appreciate all the positive feedback and encouragement, but unfortunately... that story has been put to rest. I'll no longer be updating it. I apologize for any disappointment. The 'chemistry' that Michelle Danvers and the Joker had with one and other was not something I was fully behind, and not something that is as dear to my heart as the new story you're about to read. I've developed this character in more ways than I thought possible, and Bane... just so happened to fit in a miraculous, heart-wrenching way. Read, review, enjoy. If you don't enjoy it, move on. I don't have any room for non-productive criticism. This has not been beta'd, so excuse any minimal grammatical and/or spelling errors.

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_**POV: BANE**_

Compared to the "pit", the prison walls that were currently holding him captive were an image much more suitable for a weak man. For Bane, it was too well organized and was a small reflection of the untruthful shell that enclosed Gotham. Each brick laid was one block more that stacked up to hope - a hope that would keep criminals away from exposure and into confinement, out of the eyes of officials and those alike.

Cleaning the streets was just another way to swiftly pull a mask over its citizen's heads, blinding them to the raw image of what a world less suppressed would equal to. Gotham was magical at choosing their higher power - however, when it came to a man dressed as a bat, the stream was disrupted and made to flow another way. Eccentrics from the woodwork began popping up, painting their faces, wearing masks - _a game_, Bane thought, _nothing but tweaking the tiger's tail_.

What these men wanted done was only disturbing a hornet's nest. No goals were being granted, nor promises fulfilled. He'd almost wondered the sincerity in the criminal acts, whether them to be a serious attempt or a means to merely play with their food, not even being hungry. It'd become pathetic and the time to move Ra's al Ghul's plan into motion again had finally come.

However, now Bane had become one of the men he thought so poorly of. Trapped in the cell, he was stuck reflecting on what he'd done wrong. If it weren't still for his mask in poor condition, he'd be able to free himself easily. Though, the damage it had endured was only supplying him with a short-of-sufficient amount of painkillers. And even a small disruption of the flow would cause discomfort. He wasn't suffering completely, but he was reliving most of the pain from his attack done several years before.

The failure of bestowing Ra's al Ghul's vision onto Gotham was adding to what he was feeling in his face. His eyes hadn't stopped glossing over since the moment he was taken down by the Batman. Now with his body propped up against the back of the cell's wall, he was displaying a side of him that was detrimental to his psych. The humiliation and pain he was currently enduring was mixing with and resurfacing the pain he felt when he was excommunicated from the League of Shadows.

He remembered Talia's face, the fight he put up, the words, the shame - everything slammed into him at once and proved to the world around him that something existed inside of Bane that revealed he had heart. It wasn't anything he'd admit, but instead would have to have his body admit it for him. And so it was working very hard to do this.

With his unsteady breathing that was amplified by his mask, his eyes to the floor, and his posture weak, Bane was an easy target for the guards. Many slurs were aimed at him, reminding him of how pathetic he was now and how they agreed that the treatment he was currently receiving was far too friendly. They also thanked the God's above that no doctor would dare attempt to fix the mask. And considering it wasn't completely broken, it wasn't crucial that it'd be arranged.

One thing, however, was arranged - and that was for Attorney Danvers to take him on as a client. He was pleased with his choice, having done extensive research on her. Her credentials, along with her evaluations, proved to him that she was a Gothamite worth getting through to - that she'd not been completely sucked into its sleazy empire. He requested her services and was now waiting patiently for the next chapter of his life to begin.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

In the weeks prior, Gotham had crumbled, almost entirely to the ground. Once booming establishments were reduced to abandoned street corners and darkened piles of rubble. The entire city reeked of heartbreak. Though the perpetrator was behind bars, rightfully, most of Gotham's inhabitants were still fearful to step out. Evidence of this was present all over - mail collected on tattered doormats, yards were unkempt. Everything had a layer of snow - or maybe ash, she still wasn't entirely sure - and no one cared enough to clean it up.

"I truly believe we're on our way to meeting our goal," the man continued, staring proudly into the crowd of reporters. "The Rogues will have their field back. The fundraiser is going well -"

"Liar," she hissed. His voice was silenced, a remote tossed onto the nearest cushion. She clutched a coffee cup in her hand, the string from a tea bag still dangling out the side. She hadn't refilled for hours. What was she doing? The answer was a mystery, even to her. The austere, hardened attorney was now listless, and despondent in her city. She blamed her lack of work. Without something to busy her mind with, the misery was more evident. In the strangest way possible, Michelle Danvers had been busy and idle all at once. She went into the office, every day as usual, but common cases were a thing of the past. They seemed pointless in light of all that had happened.

Knuckles rapped against the door. Fear washed over her with the consistency of cold milk, and for a minute, she remained sitting, stunned. Very few people were left in the luxury complex, despite the security promised. Vicious words filled her mind; raid, robbery, Bane's out and there's another -

"It's Jim!"

Upon hearing his name, she sprung off the couch. Sliding the deadbolt to the right, and unhooking the chain, Michelle revealed a snow-capped Commissioner. Something was wrong. She knew that look - she'd seen it cross his aged features too many times before. "Come in, please."

His eyes were cold and still contrite with the task he was given. "I'm sorry, I tried every alternative. You can decline but -"

"Gotham Judicial System would send me off with a fee that could ruin my retirement. They aren't exactly the most reasonable of people right now, Jim. I understand."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be - this isn't your fault. When is the first consultation?" The detached tone was back, something she had mastered. She had just been handed a letter that could sentence her a life of mental, and possibly physical anguish, but this was business. She had chosen this life for herself.

"He... he requested you come immediately. No one is asking you to leave tonight. Tomorrow morning is fine."

Pupils dilated. Skin tightened over bone as she clenched her knuckles under the table. "The trial isn't for months, why-"

Gordon raised his hand, defeated. "I know. He requested meetings beforehand. You'll be compensated for time."

Winter time in Gotham provided a usually unnoticed problem. Everything looked as if someone had turned down the saturation. Before, the neon signs and billboards, the hot dog vendors and multicolored culture typical of New York camouflaged it. That morning, as Danvers watched it whiz by through the tinted windows of one GCPD's Ford Explorers, she saw Gotham City for what it had been turned into; a war zone.

"Michelle Danvers, Gotham City Attorney. ID Number: Four-four-five-seven-nine." A red light blinked above her, granting her access. She cast a reassuring look towards Gordon, and entered.

Whatever construction they had done on the common cells to detain him, they had done a considerably good job. It was dark; perhaps a mockery of his 'preference'. With fists clenched, she hesitated. The entire journey to the department, her heart had raced. Now, there was a dull ache from the overwork, her cardiac muscles were straining to keep up with her adrenaline. Her eyelids drooped as she inhaled through her nose. She had said the introductory speech hundreds of times before, and somehow, she brooded that she'd forget something. There was little she could do about the her voice shaking. Taking one step closer to the cell, she cleared her throat.

"Bane, my name is Michelle Danvers. I was appointed to you. I'll be your attorney in the upcoming trial. I want you to understand that anything you say during this, or any succeeding meetings will be confidential. If I however, feel that you are a danger to myself, or alternatively, yourself, I will remit the case to a medical health professional. Do you understand this?"


	2. Fix It

_**POV: BANE**_

The remarks were relentless, being thrown in Bane's direction almost every 10 minutes. They were wastes of breath, with the prisoner being too wrapped up in his own thoughts to even recognize that he was being talked to. The temperature of the cell was almost as cold as the outside - in fact, one might argue that they'd prefer it. However, at this moment, it didn't seem enough for Bane.

Sweat streamed down his bald head and lined the suctioned edges of his mask. They followed the flow of gravity down, collecting at what would be his chin, and making a final descent onto his pants. A puddle was collecting at the knee, making the dark grey of the fabric even darker. Though, it was a stain amongst other stains, all a variety of liquids and chemicals that held stories within them.

Bane could tell you about them all, being as observant as he was. His photographic memory was a reliable and handy source to him, being it crucial to many plans and aspects in his life. He wouldn't come to realize until later that it would be the only means of remembering his beloved. For now, the pain in his face and the failure to the League of Shadows were the only things weighing heavily on his mind - those and one other thing: the location of Talia.

As many times as he asked, Bane was never given an answer. It didn't take him long to understand that they were sworn not to release any information on her. He could see them struggle to hold the thought back in their head, which swelled outward with how badly it wanted to break out of its captor's skull. Many times he'd want and imagined breaking it out himself. He realized he'd need to wait until he was presented with a mind that was worth cracking into. And it wouldn't be long before that opportunity walked itself into his line of site.

Falling in and out of sleep, Bane finally awoke to the voice of a woman. The edges of his eyelids slowly peeled away from each other, revealing blue eyes, surrounded by bright red veins that branched out in all directions. He frowned upon the interruption, having found a tiny moment where he was at peace in a dream. With it being short lived and not enough to reflect on, he pushed the feeling aside. His eyes then glided to the right of him at a pace that would make him appear to be annoyed with the sound.

As soon as his vision was halfway to completely placing its attention on her, Bane's head mildly turned along with. He took in a few long breaths, which could be heard clearly as he stared strictly onto the Attorney. "_Ms. __**Danvers**_." He again paused to breath. "_**I've**__ been expecting __**you**_." His voice sounded as though he was holding his throat closed and talking in a high pitch. It was scratchy, like a speaker that had blown out from music being played too loudly. "_Of __**course**_ -", he answered her. "_I __**understand**_."

The veins in his neck pulsed and his throat ballooned as he spoke. Despite his terrifying front, he would not let his manners be excused. The oversize man placed his hands down firmly on his bunk, gripping it tightly, and pushed himself up away from it. It creaked in agony to the pressure it was being relieved of. His once arched back unfolded as he straightened up gradually, bones cracking in the process, giving him more and more height by the second. When he was completely erect, he stood still momentarily, and then shuffled his way towards the cell's bars.

The area where bar and brick joined was where Bane aimed to situate himself. He'd utilize the wall to stabilize his quickly crumbling stature, leaning most of his weight into the concrete structure. Whatever strength he had, he'd waste it on giving the woman a face to face meeting. He took a second to catch his breath and then reached out a hand at a leisured pace. It startled the guard, causing him to make a swift move to the gun on his hip. Bane tore his eyes away from Danvers and shot them onto the man.

Greatly amused by the threat he was still able to impose, Bane stretched out his digits in a very calm and surrendering manner. "_What exactly do you __**presume**__ I'm capable __**of**__?_", he directed his question at the officer, with two intense and sharp eyes. The underlying threat soon sizzled out, with his energy dwindling as fast as it was. His posture suddenly slumped, his eyes following along with as they hit the ground.

Bane's hand, which was reaching out to brace himself using the bar, finally was able to carry out its originally intended mission. It hung on tightly as he recharged himself. When he felt fine enough to re-enter his and Danver's conversation, he shifted himself slightly and moved his eyes back calmly onto her. "_I'm ready to __**begin**__ when you are, __**Attorney**_."

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

In the duration of her speech, she hadn't moved any closer - hadn't dared to. She had seen one too many guards taunt the prisoners and shortly after, had found themselves smashed up against the bars with a portion of their uniform clenched tight within a fist. The consensus had been expressed that if he attempted to hurt her, he would lose the privilege of having her. She exhaled a shaky breath, one that was more than likely audible to both Bane, and the accompanying guard.

Three steps brought her into the little stream of light that the cell possessed. Now illuminated, she was giving him a clear image of herself. Her shoulders were stiff, pulled back as if someone was dragging her down backwards. Blonde hair fell in curled tresses around her shoulders. Her expression was passive, unyielding. Underneath all that stony exterior however, she was shaking. However, the tension in her jaw released when the grating hiss filled the room. Immediately looking to the nearest set of pipes or air ducts, her eyes were pulled back to Bane. Disbelief creased her features, lips popped apart. He was breathing. The pathetic wheeze was the sound of a man, a seemingly cruel man, but still a man - trying to get oxygen.

With an authoritarian exasperation, she marched up, standing within three feet of the bars. He was still sitting on his cot, but the muscles rippled and twitched as he made the motion to get up. His back straightened - something Danvers wasn't sure he was capable of, after sitting in the position for what she assumed as weeks - and the taller he got, the more emotion deepened her eyes. Dread ripped through her body like rutted claws, tearing at the insides.

Now standing tall, Danvers had to tilt her head back slightly to meet his eyes again. The whine continued, and grinding her back teeth, she turned to the guard. "We're beginning now, Bane. You," she extracted one finger from the tight fist, aiming it towards the guard.

"...have my permission to leave."

Sweat beads decorated his entire forehead. The swallow was loud enough to echo against the walls. "I... I can't do that, ma'am. I'm not leaving you in here with this monster."

If there was one thing that irritated Danvers to the point of scowling, it was false heroism. Stepping up because you had to, or only for personal gain. It was condemnable in her book, and something that Gotham citizens had a consistent problem with.

"I didn't ask." She took a step closer to him, lowering her head. "Refer to my client as a 'monster' again, and I'll have you removed. Now." Smoothing out a non-existent crease in her suit, she inhaled through her nose. "Your surveillance will assure my safety, and in the case that he does try to harm me, I promise I will scream."

The guard's eyebrows flew up, awkward in her overbearing shadow. "I..."

"I..." she finished his sentence for him. "...do not want to see you in this cell block again unless you have brought a medical team with you. That man's mask is severely damaged, and his pain is likely unimaginable. I don't want to talk about how long you have deferred this issue. As his attorney, I am demanding he receive medical attention. You are the one assigned to watch him. Am I correct in assuming this?"

"Uh... yes-yes, ma'am."

"Then you are in violating of his rights as a prisoner of Gotham City Police Department. He is receiving insufficient medical treatment for a severe condition." She took another step, closing in the distance between the two.

"Go, now. Come back with a registered medical practitioner, or not at all."

A response wasn't necessary, and Danvers wasn't sure she wanted one. Instead, the man bowed his head and ducked around her, keys tinkling as he did so. She took a moment to pacify herself before pivoting, cautiously, on her heels. Now facing him, Danvers looked fixedly into his eyes. Her chest was puffed out, sternum extended. Lips a straight line, she exhaled through her nose.

_**POV: BANE**_

The instant the word "monster" pierced through to his hearing, Bane frowned and lowered his gaze to the floor. It'd been awhile since he'd heard that term and there wasn't a particle of it that sat right with him. The guards, surprisingly, were using every negative term _but_ that one. The bar inside of his grip was beginning to feel the affects of his anger. The memories were again surging through to the surface and, once again, the small amount of relief that was opened to him was immediately slammed shut.

Bane's excommunication was all he could see and hear now. The final night he had with Talia before his forceful exile was, he thought at the time, the last he'd ever see of her. He'd eventually be proven wrong - however - the torment he felt on his heart still left an impacting scar. He recalled the expression on Ra's al Ghul's face and the disgust of his presence that he constantly fed him. Whenever Bane had lost himself in the blissful gaze of Talia, it'd be ripped from him the moment her father stepped in between them.

Obedient like a dog, Bane would lower his head, keeping his attention aimed precisely on the floor in front of him. He'd hear that damaging word play over and over in his head. It would be until Talia, against orders, would secretly meet with him, reassuring him he was not a monster. The feel of her soft hand against his wrecked cheek, although painful as it disrupted his wounds, still calmed him down, making him forget the destruction happening within him.

Not many more times was that able to happen. Once Talia's protector, turned suddenly to _monster_, _cast out_, and _forbidden_. Then, unexpectedly, Bane became aware of his present surroundings. _"...Refer to my client as a 'monster' again, and I'll have you removed..." _His heavy eyes began climbing up the frame of Danvers' and then ultimately met with hers. He searched them, finding that there was sincerity in her request. Despite exercising her knowledge of law, it wasn't the only thing she was backing-up her statements with. He could sense that she was legitimately concerned with his condition.

Bane blinked rapidly a few times and shifted his weight again. His free hand rose to his neck and hung itself onto his vest. He breathed in and out a few more times, allowing his eyes to soften upon her before speaking again. "_Thank you_." His voice was soft and barely understandable. There was more air in the expression of his gratitude than there was vibration. It was closer to the whisper of an actual man - probably something of what he sounded like the days before his beating. However, he couldn't tell you, having forgot what much of anything was like previous to that day.

After reflecting on the events that just unfolded, Bane helped regain the professionalism that Danvers was fighting to keep between them and everyone else in the cell. His hand that was gripping the bar then fell to the horizontal one below it. It held on, treating it like a handle on a bike. "_I __**need**_ -" His chest rose and then fell. "_The answer to a __**question**__._"

His eyes buzzed behind Danvers. "_Where_-" He breathed a few more times and then swiftly reconnected their gaze. "_Is __**Talia**_?"


	3. Code 29

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

Every labored breath he took, she heard - even felt. Every so often, in her line of work, there was a criminal that was wrongly accused, or acted out of self defense. Albeit, the title of 'convict' subjected them to thoughtless discrimination and abuse. Demonstrated here with Bane, very few criminals were given the appropriate rights they deserved.

She winced. Winced because witnessing the severe excruciation of others was something she had yet to master. She was alone with him then, for the time being. Something settled over her, like a heavy sheet of silk, creasing over her slender frame. She had walked close enough now, that she could feel the chill emanating from the surrounding iron bars. It mixed with the heat from his skin to create a temperature that was a little less than accommodating.

"I can give you an answer," she naively promised, before hearing the question. For his sake, she wanted to give him whatever answer she could, even if it wasn't the one he wanted to hear.

The name, at first, meant nothing to her. The blank expression on her face reflected that. Then, the process of mental evocation started. Every newspaper she'd glanced at, every news broadcast she'd listened to, and every GCPD file she'd had the luxury of reading. The last group was where she discovered her answer. _Miranda Tate, an alias for Talia al Ghul._

The deadpan look changed, molded into something more pained. Her eyebrows pulled together, creating a groove in the middle of her forehead. She rolled her lips inwardly. _Miranda Tate was pronounced dead on the scene, Commissioner Gordon was present, and confirmed that the nature of her death was related to the vehicular accident. _

The tone in his voice disclosed the significance of this question. Many of the guards probably had no idea who Talia was, nor did they care. This man was a menace to their city, why would they waste the time to answer a question? Danvers suspected that he'd asked it many times before, and despite the answer containing classified information, she felt a strange sense of duress to tell him.

"Talia..." she stopped, steadied her quivering vocal chords. Her tone had to be completely void of any opinions, because well, that was what attorneys did. They spoke without prejudice. "Talia didn't make it. There was an accident with a transport vehicle. She was pronounced dead... on the scene."

**_POV: BANE_**

It was as if a small child had been handed a calculus problem. He didn't have a clue how to take the news. His eyes blinked a few times, before drifting down to floor like a falling leaf. The only means he had to express himself was through his eyes, which were flooding with a range of emotion. It suddenly became too much to handle. Bane's hand then tightened around the bar as his body began descending backwards.

Eventually, his rear hit the cot and he was back to sitting again. His hand remained grasping the metal, acting as the only thing that could physically console him. His breathing died down, taking a breath every few seconds, choosing to linger in his deflated lungs. Then it hit him all at once - his eyes closed shut, holding back the few tears that wanted to escape. The veins in his head were pumping hard, putting his anger on complete display.

It was the last straw - the last traumatic event that his body could handle before shutting down. Bane's eyes then burst open. He was fighting to catch his breath. On top of hearing the devastating news, the level of painkillers remaining in his mask was less than 1% and dropping. His hand then lost its grip and skidded down the bars, landing heavily in his lap. Then, without warning, Bane's eyes rolled up into his head and his large frame began falling forward.

The sound he made when he landed echoed loudly throughout the cell, continuing on through the rest of the building. Without hesitation, it alerted the guards who were waiting for any ol' excuse to wave their guns around. A pair of them came rushing down the stairs, shouting in the direction of Danvers to step away from the cell. However, to their surprise, they would find a fallen Bane, hanging on to mere threads of life.

_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

Death was always a hard thing for a person to understand. One of the reasons Michelle never became a doctor was that she didn't like bringing pain upon people, forcing them to cope with it. In that instance however, she had. She had tried to word her answer sympathetically, with as few grisly details as humanely possible - it hadn't been gentle enough for Bane.

The attorney flinched, but stood fast to the concrete. The sound was thunderous, it resonated off the walls and battered her eardrums. Her eyes were glossy, red-rimmed around the edges. She heard the doors open, and the hammering of boots against concrete. Bane's chest heaved, the hissing more prevalent than before.

"Move away from the cell, ma'am! Now! Move!"

She blinked, unemotionally. Everything around her was in slow motion, though her mind was racing. She was trying to comprehend what had happened, clouded with a sense of patronage that she couldn't place. A whine of protest scampered out of her mouth as one of the men wrapped an arm around her from behind. He started walking backwards, distancing her from the cell. Two guards crowded the door, and one of them unlocked it. The hinges howled as it swung open. Their steps were cautious, predisposed in case he was just faking this incident. The guard, who Danvers had told off not moments ago, and knelt down, pressing a palm to his chest.

"He's barely breathing. I think he's dying."

Those words served as a shotgun at the beginning of race. Danvers was coherent again, focusing on everything. Rage flew through her, coming out in every breath she exhaled.

"Get your goddamn -" Throwing all her weight into the other man, she wrenched his arms away from her shoulders. Situating herself, she exhaled. "Get your guns off of him! Out of my way!" Not caring much for courtesy at that moment, she shoved her way through the guards, all of whom held their aim on the collapsed mass on the floor.

Rolling her eyes up to the ceiling, she reached down, pulling the man up by his collar. Sharp as a needle, Michelle's finger flew up in the young guard's face. His eyes went wide. "You've pissed me off twice today. You have one minute to not make it three times. Where's the medical team?"

Frozen, the man reached down and retrieved the walkie talkie off his belt. He swallowed audibly. "Can we... we need a medical team in here. Fast. We've got a code twenty-nine."

After hearing the confirmation that a team would be dispatched to the cell within ten minutes, Danvers turned her attention to Bane. She crouched down, heels squeaking against the dirty floors. Her hand twitched over his shoulder. Touching him could pose as a danger to herself, and maybe him. If he considered her a threat in his unconscious state, there'd be more problems at hand.

"Bane, listen to me. The medical team is on its way. I need you to look at me." He wasn't responding. Danvers felt the vomit churn in her stomach, her eyes drifted close, pacifying the feeling. "Bane, look at me." Disregarding all aforementioned safety procedures, she reached over his face, and pulled his opposite cheek towards her. Tapping it lightly, she repeated her demand.

_**POV: BANE**_

As Bane's eyes fluttered, his consciousness slowly pulled itself back. His environment was blurry and nothing would come into focus. He could see movement, particularly the shapes of men. Though, he was unsure of their allegiance to his health. Would he embrace his death? He didn't know the answer. Perhaps he'd be reunited with his love. But he doubted that the life after this would be anything close to accommodating his happiness.

The darkness slipped over his lids again. Whatever movement he made came to a halt. A peace seemed to sweep over him, his body going softly limp. But a touch to his cheek surged an energy through him, bringing him back to life. His reflexes rose to 100% as his eyes burst open and his hand speedily closed around the foreign one on his face. He breathed deeply, as his eyes pierced into the woman kneeling over him.

With the world still blurry around him, he couldn't make out the face. Disillusions were feeding into his mind, piecing a profile together on its own. Seconds later, recognition settled in and he realized the face: Talia. His hand that was still on hers loosened its grip. His eyes went soft, reflecting a man untouched by the woes of life. His other hand rose and eventually the tips of his fingers connected with her chin.

To believe that Bane's touch was almost equal to that of a feathers would be just as difficult to believe there to be gold at the end of a rainbow. However, the true believers, those that were given the chance to experience his human side, would take their belief to the grave. His fingers continued along the line of her jaw and continued up to her ear. His hand then slid up the side of her head, his fingers combing through her hair and down the back to her neck.

A single tear rolled down over his left temple, as he gazed blissfully up at her. "_I thought_ -", he stopped to breath in a couple times. "_You were __**dead**_." The final word was broken and cracked harshly within his mask. Something was going wrong again, causing his eyes to flutter back up into his head. His breathing was starting to sound gurgled and soon any sound at all would disappear. The woman's face then began to fade, along with the strength in his arms, which both collapsed at his sides.

There was still life in him - a very small amount, but it was there. Bane remained holding on, but only had so long before he'd completely slip.


	4. Hospital

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

Clinging to whatever was in reach, Danvers noted his eyelids fluttering and heaved a sigh of alleviation. At least he was trying. Everyone was watching, scrutinizing the situation in front of them. This woman attorney had come in, acting like this criminal's emancipator, and now, she was crouching on the ground next to him. Everyone was hoping for death, except for her.

What happened next happened all at once. Bane slapped his palm over hers, covering it completely. Hidden amongst the large size, her fingers were like that of a doll's. The strength he possessed in that gentle motion was remarkable, and as she instinctively tried to withdraw her hand, he held fast. A panicked whimper pressed against her tightly closed lips. Not wanting to alert he guards of what was happening, she swallowed the fear and stared down at him. Then, without warning - it suddenly wasn't that hard to concentrate.

His cerulean eyes stared up at her, benevolent and genuine. His wide fingers entangled themselves through her hair, and caressed the nape of her neck. How could a man, who had been the sole designer of a city's annihilation, be so warm and idyllic? So easily damaged?

"I thought... you were dead." His consciousness dwindled and Danvers sprung forward, not having time to dwell on the fact that he was hallucinating. "No, no! Look at me, do what I say. Right in my eyes, Bane - god damnit!"

"Ma'am, excuse me."

There was a series of cracks as she sharply turned to face the voice. Her lips were parted, eyes apprehensive. A middle-aged man, in a blue uniform, stood above her. A sizable bag hung over his shoulder, brightly colored. "Ma'am, I need you to step back. He's in critical condition, ma'am. Please."

Instantaneously, she obeyed and stood up. Her hand swept across his cheek, over the uneven ridges of his mask as she elevated off her haunches. Danvers rubbed her palms together, removing whatever dirt had collected on them. She didn't look back as the paramedics crowded around him, muttering jargon that she understood but didn't want to hear. Instead, she threw her shoulders back and ducked through the throngs of guards.

"Code two-nine-six-seven, section one-A. There is an imminent danger of death, and two-A clearly states that if the prisoner is medically incapacitated, and cannot live day to day with heedful supervision, that prisoner is eligible for release as if on parole."

"He destroyed an entire city. Killed innocent people, and for what? Liberation?"

Danvers pinched the bridge of her nose.

"He is not being freed and dismissed of his charges, your honor. The lower portion of his face is-" She'd memorized the stack of papers in front of her on the way over, but her finger stomped down on a particular potion of the page. "If the facility cannot provide - which Gotham City Police Department cannot - the necessary ministration that an inmate requires, and in accordance with reasonable medical standards and a reasonable degree of medical certainty is likely to cause death to inmate, if left untreated, within twelve months, that inmate can be discharged to a nearby hospital." Michelle returned her eyes to the judge.

"What part of that is arguable?"

"Nothing. Your request is approved. I'll send the paperwork over to Gotham General."

_**POV: BANE**_

"Goodbye". The last word spoken to Talia before the swarm consumed him. The last he'd know his face to be whole. Fingers covered his eyes and hands over his face. The weight of 15+ men dragged him down, forcing an intimacy with him and the ground. Nothing came of it, until one of the men made their drastic move. He felt the initial blow, which wasn't as painful until the mob progressed. It wasn't until the 6th strike that he'd finally felt the damage.

The screams that escaped him were gargled, as the blood gushed profusely. Understanding what they had just done, the mob began stepping back in unison. It was a horrific sight and sent one man tripping backwards, babbling in a foreign tongue. As if they'd just witnessed the birth of the devil, their eyes grew with fear and they quickly scurried off in different directions.

The light from above cascaded down upon Bane, placing him on complete display. His blood that pooled around him was spreading like wildfire. The cracks in the floor were filling up and sending it down the steps like a waterfall. Bane remained on the floor, huddled and shaking in trauma. His eyes were open, watching the blood escape. He realized what he'd done much earlier and it didn't take this beating to wake him up from his "heroic" gesture.

The decision he made to save the girl still remained confident and solid in his heart. This consequence was worth watching her escape, watching as she jumped and caught her future, hanging on to it for dear life and then climbing to seal it. She was out and the final glimmer in his eye before his face collapsed, amazingly, didn't die. Even as he watched the crimson surround him, he still kept hanging on - just like she did.

Suddenly, the light on Bane's face was covered. He didn't bother moving his eyes to view the man responsible for it, knowing it was someone to finish the job. However, to his surprise, he felt two arms wrap around him and help him up. The man could feel his trembling carry over into his own body. "I'm a doctor.", he told Bane. "I'm going to help you."

Dragging Bane away from the warm puddle wasn't easy. The prisoner was large and his dead weight from being in shock wasn't helping. Though, he still managed to get Bane propped up against a stone block and begin treatment. He warned him of the pain and briefed him on the procedure, but there was still no response. It wasn't until a few minutes into the doctor's work that Bane showed any sign of emotion.

A single tear swelled up in the outer corner and then rolled down his cheek. His dead eyes, however, kept a dull stare off into the distance. The doctor paused upon seeing this and meekly let his hands fall away from Bane's face. He brought his eyes to the prisoner's and placed his hand over his. "You will be alright. Be strong." Finally, Bane connected his gaze with the Doctor's. He lingered there a minute as they exchanged a positive and mutual understanding. He then nodded slowly, giving the doctor the reassurance he needed to continue.

Several hours later, the doctor finished. He did what he could, though for Bane, it was not enough. His face was still in excruciating pain. The ache was spreading from his head, down through his spine, and out the rest of his body. With half of his face wrapped in cloth, he spent most of his days up against the same stone block he was operated on. The doctor would check on him frequently, silently cringing as he would remind himself of the destruction when he'd pull away the bandaging.

Later, unknown to Bane, he would be given the means to upgrade himself. If it wasn't for him going through the horror that he did, he would have never been given the opportunity to become better, bigger, and stronger. It was a beautiful and wholly accepted day when Talia came back for him. It hurt that she had succumbed to seeing his face. She jerked back, but reminded herself of who he still was inside. It didn't matter to her. And she still loved him. "I'm here, my friend.", he remembered her saying as she replaced his bandage carefully.

Though wishing he could smile, Bane instead signaled with eyes the happiness he felt. She didn't need to see a grinning mouth in order to know. She could feel his spirit inside of him growing and reaching out to her. It didn't take long to evacuate him. And when he arrived at the headquarters of the League of Shadows, his accident was promptly attended to.

How many times Bane would relive those moments in his dreams, he didn't know. They hadn't stopped and he saw no break in the near future. As his lids broke open, an artificial light struck his pupils harshly. He winced from the pain, the brightness blinding to him, and waited until his eyes adjusted until completely letting them open. It took him a minute to figure out his surroundings, until it came to him that he was inside of a hospital.

Automatically, Bane noticed the pain was gone. He was back to breathing "normally". His mask had been fixed. And, because of this, security was now a lot tighter. Upon moving his wrists, ankles, or any body part for that matter, he felt a taut restraint. Looking down, he could see a number of straps holding him down. These straps had been double, triple, quadruple reenforced. They knew the potential threat he was capable of and took no chances.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

"...he's awfully malnourished, to be honest with you. I'm surprised he didn't keel over sooner." The young man flipped through the collected papers on the clipboard, his homosexuality obvious. "I can't really tell you the last time he ate. I'm going to guess a while. He's getting supplements now, intravenously. It's strange, because his muscle mass is astounding. Even without proper calorie intake, it looks like he managed to workout in the short time he was..."

"...detained." she finished.

"Right. So," he shrugged, looking sympathetic. His pen tapped against the plastic. "We're doing what we can to get his levels back up. He's been somewhat lucid, but he definitely isn't stable... if that's what you're asking."

The diverse noises of the hospital triumphed over the attorney's annoyed sigh. She hunched over the front counter, ringlety blonde tresses spilling over the smooth surface. Though the day was only half over, she felt like she had been going nonstop for at least forty-eight. Emotionally, she probably had.

"I'm sorry. Is he a boyfriend?"

Her head snapped up, a look of abhorrence, and maybe even chagrin, on her face. "Excuse me?"

Her tone had been so biting that the receptionist panicked and backpedalled. "I mean... I uh - you just seem so concerned about his levels. I don't know, I've heard weirder stories. Some girl came in her, with her jaw hanging off - you know what she said? She was in love with the Joker. Self-inflicted wounds."

The name elicited another cringe, as if someone had just drug a handful of iron nails along the length of a chalkboard. She almost cowered away from the counter, recalling the last criminal she had wasted a good majority of her life on.

"No," she replied, exhaling hard. "I'm his attorney. I take my cases... very seriously. The mistreat of him, criminal or not, was unacceptable."

"Amen to that." Ducking around the edge of the counter, the man made a motion with two fingers to follow him. "I don't know if he's awake - but if he is, by all means. Do what you gotta' do."

Danvers followed the man down the hallway, dodging nurses and grieving family members. To her, this was just as bad as graveyard. Remorse and anger filled the hallways like blood and was about as tangible. "Hoh-excuse me."

Turning to scowl at the unobservant idiot who had just crashed into her, Danvers was met with a man, who had been to busy staring into the room that the receptionist was now stopped at to notice that people were attempting to get in.

"Can I help you?" she cooed, acerbically.

Changing his expression from agog to unnaturally amused, he held up his hands. "Nah. Just never got to see the thing up close."

Her eyes diminished into fine slits. "This isn't a show-and-tell. Leave."

Returning her statement with an odd sneer, the man eventually walked off, muttering his annoyances under his breath.

"Lots of weirdos in here - enjoy yourself." The receptionist slid the large glass door open, allowing Danvers to join Bane in the room. As soon as she was in, he sealed it back up, and pulled the blinds over the glass, preventing any other gawkers from crashing the party.

Many would argue that a hospital was still a prison, only immensely more sanitary. She instantly saw why; Bane's wrists and ankles had been secured with straps that could support the weight of Wayne Tower. Closing her eyes, she listened, discerning the pattern of his breaths, and filtering out the beeps and hisses of the air compressor behind the bed. Her own breath combined with his, as she heaved a sigh of relief. The hissing had disappeared.

Walking gingerly across the room, Danvers scooted a chair away from the wall, and positioned it alongside the bed. If he was awake, they'd talk. If he wasn't, she'd wait until he was. There was something about the hospital's occupants that the attorney didn't feel like entrusting them with Bane's overall well-being.

**_POV: BANE_**

Bane was 5 minutes into testing the reliability of the restraints. It seemed they knew who they were up against and, with that knowledge, built the contraptions on each of his limbs appropriately. He also began noticing a peculiar pattern with the structure of the walls around him. If this were actually a hospital, it sure was created with a heavy prison inspiration. But with his intelligence being so high as it was, it didn't take him long to figure out that this room was created around _him_. Or rather, not him in specific, but for the mold that fit the sudden rise in eccentric Gotham criminals.

This was rather humorous to him and he slowly nodded to himself in understanding of the over dramatic security. He didn't blame them, in fact - he respected them for their wise precautionary. Otherwise, he'd been out by now, making his escape. Then suddenly, the opening of the door to his room grabbed his attention. It was dark, keeping whether he was awake or not a mystery to the guest. It didn't take him long to recognize the face and the second he did, his muscles relaxed and gave into his confinements.

Bane's eyes followed Danvers as she traveled the room, taking advantage of what furniture they provided for a person to make themselves comfortable. He remained quiet as he watched her situate herself. He took note that she was extremely passionate about her work - even more passionate than what he had put her down to be before. He waited until she was close enough to the bed and then turned his face into the light.

"_I __**hope**__ you can forgive __**me**__ for our last __**meeting**_.", he stated with more vigor this time. "_**I**__ wasn't quite feeling __**myself**_." It was put as lightly as possible and done on purpose. There was a connection he felt with the attorney that brought him to believing she would be easy to level with. Her intelligence was commendable and the fact that she was able to keep her cool when presented with such situations was astounding. And, with that, it gave her the privilege to see a side of him that many would swear died along with that tragic day.


	5. Intravenous Attempt

**__**Thank you to everyone who's already following this story! Please review! I'd love to hear your feedback/thoughts on what's happened so far. ALSO: I am not the one writing for Bane. I'm fortunate enough to have found someone with such a grasp on the character. As you've probably noticed, the writing style changes between POV. Any compliments on Bane's writing will be given to him (and possibly responded to)! Thanks!

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**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

She had not but a minute or two to pretend she was getting comfy. The darkness surrounded the mass beside her, and because of that, she assumed he had been resting. This assumption was wrong. Jolting out of the momentarily relaxed posture, she sucked in all her air, hand flying to the small patch of skin that was exposed between her button-up shirt. The sonorous voice broke the silence of the room, and unintentionally, Danvers had looked as if someone had just slapped her.

"I thought you were sleeping." Her hand dropped to her lap. "There's no need to apologize," she reassured him, attempting to look as soft as she knew how. "I don't blame you for feeling a little... out of sorts back there."

His voice was something different entirely now, unaccompanied by the forlorn wheeze. His eyes weren't quite as glassy as before, though just as vividly blue. There were two voices in her head, each conflicting with the other. A callous offender, large and merciless sat in front of her. If he hadn't been tethered to the bed, might've killed her. She should be afraid of him. At the same time, the attorney's green eyes looked back at him with a certain sense of regard - he was a man. A human man capable of love, of compassion, of pain... just like anyone else. He wasn't a superhuman - he had fallen to pieces right in front of her.

She blinked, disinclined to know if she had been staring. "Are you... How are you feeling now?"

_**POV: BANE**_

Bane turned his head back to the shadow. It covered his face like an unannounced overcast. His eyes looked ahead of him and to the corner of the room. "_I've_ been _worse_." The restraints kept him from speaking with his hands, which were a large part of his communication. It frustrated him every time he attempted to make a gesture, and instead ended up reminding himself of the contraptions that were keeping him down like some rabid gorilla.

"You _appear_ as though you _fared_ out _well_." His eyes shot momentarily to their corners, taking a quick glance at the female attorney. Everything on her body was in order - even her attitude. She wasn't frazzled or overly compensating for anything. It was a switch from the type of human interaction and reaction he generally received. There was a time where instilling fear into others was overpowering and a successful way to get what you wanted.

However, after a period of repeatedly watching as men scrambled, quaked, and crumbled before him, forgetting all that they stood for in order to give it up for his mercy, it became disgusting. And he'd learn that certain minds were meant to be broken, bent, and redesigned, while others were meant to be disposed. It didn't taken long for him to master the skill of telling the difference between the two. They didn't follow him out of fear for losing their life. They followed him knowing they would lose their life to a cause, dieing in honor.

Though, right now, Bane had no knowledge of which of his allies were alive or dead. And the only thing close to representing him was a few feet away. Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a male nurse, who invited himself inside the room. He kept his eyes down, saying nothing, and quietly closed the door behind. It was until he turned around did he notice that another occupant was beside Bane's bed. "Oh. Sorry. Just a check-up.", he said meekly and then flipped the light on.

Brightness flooded Bane's vision, causing him to shut his eyes and cringe. It would take a minute before he could open them again, which gave the male nurse a chance to do his duties unadvised. His posture was a wreck and the fact that he was 10 pounds underweight accented it. The second Bane was able to keep his eyes open and see bold color seeping through the whitewash, he made sure to keep his attention fully on the male. Something just didn't sit right with him.

The nurse, with an IV in one hand and a clear bag in the other, approached Danvers sheepishly and then stood by her side. "Can I, uh- ask you to move, Miss. I need to - need to hook Mr. Bane here up to a new IV. Doctor's orders.", he squeaked out and then ended with a nervous laugh. Bane shifted his eyes cautiously over onto the man and narrowed them in on his face. He could see the sweat beads forming at his temples and a slight tremble in his hands. He was obviously up to something and it was only a short time before Bane would turn the situation on its head.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

"Looks can be deceiving, right?" The laugh that punctuated her sentence was dry. Internally, she knew there was no denying that some of her parts - the more shaded, more concealed ones - hadn't managed quite as well with the emotionally traumatizing day she'd had. Accompanying that fact, was that one that she was also a very strong woman. "I'm doing fine though," she continued, mustering up the closest thing she could to a warm smile.

The glass door was again opened, closed, and this time, a faint click was heard. She hadn't locked the room when she entered - why someone else would feel that as necessary measure was beyond her. At his words, she stiffened. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Mr. Bane, here? How professional of you. Tell me," Pushing herself up off the cushion of the chair, Danvers turned around, arms slithering into a tight cross. "What exactly are the contents of this new IV? As his attorney, I'm entitled to ask."

"I said... move."

"I will. As soon as you tell me what's in the IV." As the last word left her mouth, her expression changed entirely. Every muscle in her body hardened as the anger riddled her senses. This man now standing in front of her wasn't a nurse at all - but instead a vigilant onlooker. Someone who thought they were going to save the day and kill the criminal. She'd seen it before with Joker, and she was witnessing it again. Again, the false heroism thing was becoming a problem in her daily life.

"Game's over. Get out before I call security."

The man witnessed Danvers' change too, because the bag hit the floor, needle tinkling inaudibly against the tile. His hand swept up, in a fluid motion with the intention of backhanding her. Seeing this, the attorney blocked his forearm, and gripped it firmly with both hands. Having friends in GCPD had its benefits; she had received self-defense tips, which as an attorney, came in handy more than one would've thought. Ducking around him, she twisted the arm and forced it against his back.

Her lips curled over her teeth, breath heaving out in gusts. "Was this your plan? To try and kill a man ten times your size?"

Instead of responding, the man's free hand reached up and gripped one blonde curl, his fingers closing around it. Grunting as he did so, the man pulled with all his strength. Unable to withhold the cry of pain, Danvers released the man's arm, caving to the direction her hair was being pulled. The burn erupted over the left side of her head as he continued to wrench her down towards the ground. Once he had succeeded in pressing her head against the tile, the man uncurled his fingers and scrambled nervously for the IV.

**_POV: BANE_**

What played out before Bane created a tidal wave in his mind, crashing on and covering his reality. His past came flooding in again and suddenly he was back in the pit. The protector within him never let go. The day he watched Talia's mother be pulled into the wild pack of prisoners was a major turning point in his life. Pulling the child in close to him, he pressed her small head against his chest and wrapped his garbs around her. He wouldn't let go so long as the surrounding hungry eyes were present.

Bane's eyes flickered as his mind flipped from past to present. Before him was a youthful blonde's life at stake, in the hands of an imposter. His first impulse was to break his hands free, to protect her, to make that man pay for the mistake that he spent many days pondering, plotting, and planning. However, no matter how many times he yanked, tugged, pulled, shook, rocked - the restraints would not budge. Tiny dents were made, but nothing enough to create an impact.

But Bane would not allow his eyes to witness this woman's life slip away from her. He searched around him, turning his head in all directions in order to find anything that would end the fight. At first, to his dismay, nothing caught his attention - until his eyes happened upon a box on the wall that he observed to be the controls/release to his restraints. All in case of an emergency. _He had found his hope and despair_. He intensely stared at it, straining his neck in the process. His breathing was deep as it reminded him of the light above him in the pit. The way out. His freedom. Though, more importantly - her freedom.

After realizing he'd spent too much time away from viewing the fight, Bane speedily turned his head back to Danvers, who was now on the floor. He could see that her chest was still moving - good, she was still alive. However, he did not see the attacker. With his brow lowered heavily over his eyes, he scanned the room, but saw nothing. That was until a hand came up from underneath the bed and latched its bloody self onto the edge. Bane watched as the man struggled to lift his body up, taking a few minutes until he achieved his goal.

Once on the bed, the imposter grinned maliciously and panted while he stared the masked man down. He was sweating profusely and having a hard time keeping himself upright. "Mr. Bane.", he said between gulps of air. "I'm here to kill you." The manner in which he announced his objective showed that he had no remorse for the decision he was anxious to execute. He wanted this mercenary dead, once and for all. And the second Gotham was rid of him, the city could breath a collected sigh of relief.

Bane had dealt with men of this caliber before. It was nothing new and certainly not a challenge. There was always a slip-up and it would only be a matter of time until he'd catch it and snatch his chance to rise. He watched as the man prepped the IV, which was then stuck into Bane's hand. "Fast acting poison. No mercy for you. We just want you gone. You understand that?" The man began squeezing the bag, hoping to get the liquid running faster through the tubes.

"The justice of this city. The mere nerve it has to keep men- No." He paused to snicker. "No, no. Monsters. Monsters like you alive." As he continued massaging the contents, Bane traced the tube from his hand up to the bag. The man had obviously not done his research. Poison was useless to him. He was immune to the majority of them. The ones that did have any potential threat were rare enough to where he was confident in assuming this man would never possess connections of that type of force.

Thinking he had the upper hand, the imposter continued talking confidently. "It's disgusting. Not to mention, lawyers like your dead bitch girlfriend on the fl-." A rustling on the ground caused the man to turn away from Bane and examine the source of the noise. It was too late for him to react and, before he knew it, was in a choke hold by Danvers. Bane bent his eyebrows curiously and tilted his head. "_Then you shouldn't have mentioned it_!"

Taking a minute to proudly watch as Danvers had control, Bane decided this was a time to act while the time was given. She was a good fighter, however, not good enough. And it would be soon before she would find herself down and out again. The tube running from his hand was at his fingertips, which he began gathering up. Once he had a well enough handful, he yanked the needle out and molded his grip around it like holding a dagger.

Bane waited until the fight was again over. Knowing this man was not out to kill Danvers, he understood he wouldn't exhaust much time with her. When the imposter scrambled back, in hopes he'd not missed the death, the horror that struck him when the initial feeling of pain entered into his hand instantly washed away the excitement in his face. He gulped painfully hard and slowly lowered his head to find that the IV had been disconnected from Bane and was now inside of him.

"N-No.", he pushed out in a desperate whisper. Bane's eyes quickly filled with satisfaction as the man realized what was happening. "_You're_ getting a _taste_ of your own _poison_. _Much_ like this _city_ was _given_ when _I_ took _charge_." Bane stopped to place more pressure on the man's hand, sinking the needle past the point it should've stopped. "But when you're the _poison_ - like _me_ - there's no stopping it!" The echo of his breathing within Bane's masked took over the room as he dropped his eyes from the man's and slithered them down to the bed.

From there, Bane continued onto the tube and then followed it until he reached site of his own hand, which had it tightly pinched. "Or is _there_?" After proposing the question, he turned his head back and watched as the man's eyes grew with hope. "_I_ will let it _go_. And I will watch you _die_. _All_ on the _basis_ - that you do not grant me my _wish_." Upon hearing that the poison was being held at bay, the man's panic had returned. "Wh-What wish?", he asked trembling and sniffing up sweat.

Bane took in a large breath and looked away. He hesitated in the moment, imagining what it felt like to be on the other side of the needle. He knew it was extremely painful and delighted that the tables had been successfully turned. "The switch behind _you_.", he said nonchalantly. He left it up to the man to discover it himself. And when he could feel the energy flow change within the man's body, he continued. "Flip it - And your life will be _spared_."

The man wasted no time thinking it over and nodded his head rapidly. But after looking down at his hand and frowning at his restriction, his eyes hurried back to his captor's and expressed doubt. Troubled by the man's thick weakness, Bane irritatedly shifted his eyes away. "You can _reach_." Even though appalled by what he just had heard, the man accepted and started his mission.

Though because of the man's complete lack of nerve, Bane held down his hand even harder, creating even more friction against his task. His finger's stretched out to their limit and when Bane caught a glimpse of surrender in the man's body language, he brought his attention back to the tube. "I'd _suggest_ picking up the _pace_. My _fingers_ are losing _strength_." He then turned and faced the man with a scorning look. "_And __**I'm**__ losing __**patience**_.", he growled.

The man knew he needed to ignore the pain and just reach. He took a deep breath and braced himself. With all his strength, his arm straightened out and the tips of his fingers danced and flailed in front of the panel. He winced as he felt the needle dig and writhe within him. But after coaching himself through it and finally biting the bullet, he stretched enough and finally touched the panel. He then flipped open the door and pressed his index finger into the switch.

The clamps instantly released, shooting out compressed air as they did. Pleased, Bane slowly rose his upper body up, as if he'd just come back from the dead, but still kept the man's hand under his control and the tube pinched. "Alright, I did as you asked! Now, let me go!", the man hysterically pleaded. Bane kept his face forward a minute before turning slowly in the direction of the imposter. He examined his face and scanned his eyes over each twitching wrinkle, pellet of sweat, and bleeding wounds. "Let you _go_!", he said amused. "But you must_ learn_ your lesson _first_."

The man shook his head confused. "Lesson? The hell are you talking about, lesson?! Look what you just- are, ARE doing to me!", he shouted. The man's behavior was shameful to Bane and he couldn't believe that such a pathetic mind had gathered the courage to execute what he had failed to do. "If you aren't willing to _die_ for it -". Bane paused and breathed in a couple times, watching the man's pupil's practically collapse into themselves. "Then it isn't worth _doing_."

Without warning, Bane's fingers released their hold that they had on the tube, allowing the flow of poison to run its course. Knowing the man would fight, he strongly took the man's hand into his, putting his palm over the needle so that it had no room to wiggle out. The man thrashed wildly, using all his might to squirm away. It was like a child attempting to escape a punishment from their father. There was no need for Bane to strain himself, for the fight felt close to nothing to him.

It didn't take long before there was less and less of a struggle and, pretty soon, the man folded onto the floor and passed away. After having watched the entire scene, Bane threw the man's arm to lay along with the rest of his body. Being of no more use, he tore his attention away from the lifeless pile and shifted it onto Danvers, who was looking rather out of it. He then climbed out of bed and slowly approached her, towering over her with an intimidating and overwhelming capacity. "Come, Ms. Danvers.", he said calmly as he bent down beside her. He then stuck out his arms and scooped her up. "Our _chariot_ awaits _us_."


	6. Fear of Flying -- Or Falling

_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

As soon as she had hit the ground, the man's attention drifted. Had he really thought pulling her hair would kill her? As if witnessing a rabid animal tromp throughout a campsite, Danvers took on the defense of playing dead. She would not move until the moment most benefited her - and Bane.

The tile grew warm under her cheek as she waited, concentrating on the conversation. She would've welcomed the coolness at that point, her body temperature was rising steadily from the adrenaline dump into her system. The man confessed his intentions, and his means of doing so. The word 'poison' made Danvers cringe - something that Gotham citizens had gained access to far too easily. Common household poisons were a thing of the past, and instead, jaded men and women acting on a heartbroken whim, could find cyanide or euthanasia easily to execute whatever ill-thought out plan they felt necessary.

As if using it as a cue, Danvers rolled towards the edge of the gurney as soon as the man mentioned 'monster'. Using the slanted bed as a concealment, she was able to crouch on her haunches behind Bane. Each step was painstaking, avoiding as little noise as possible.

His eyes were impassive, unconcerned with the situation at hand. Her right arm laced around the man's neck, fingers meeting those of her left hand and interlacing. She reduced the space between her forearm and his neck until she heard the retch of his windpipe constricting. It had deterred him long enough for a small motion within Bane's hands to occur. However, Danvers eyes were pulled away from the sight as the man hurled all his weight into her. She crashed into the wall, the air exuding out of her lungs in a resentful cough. Her arms were tossed to her sides. Nausea seethed in her stomach, an overwhelming fragility settling over the woman.

Her eyelids lifted, then dropped. Tightening her fingers into fists, Danvers forced them open. Words were being said, but there was a warped echo accompanying them, making it difficult for her to understand them. Scrambling for coherency, she brought her eyes up, up to Bane. He was sitting upright, looking equally as composed as he had prior. Globules of sweat adorned her flushed cheeks, her lips were parted, allowing the panicked breath to escape. She lowered her lids again, wincing at the pain that had developed in the back of her skull.

Achieving a count to only seven, Danvers noted a change in the light above her, despite her eyes being closed. As she opened her eyes, the shadow shrunk. Bane was crouching in front of her, seemingly well enough to function. "Come, Ms. Danvers."

"N-no... no, please," she whined, leaning to the side as his arms gathered her form. The floor dropped from underneath her, gravity pulling the mussed locks down to hang over Bane's forearms. "Our chariot awaits us!"

She writhed, attempting to straighten her legs. His force tightened around her with crushing power. Exhaling, her head dropped back against his bicep. She opened her mouth, allowing for a distorted, dry groan.

"No, no, I'm not - please, no!" Feebly, she reached up and hammered an unsteady fist against his chest. The sound was solid, and elevating her eyes up to his face, which was decidedly more the underside of his jawline, she saw the assault had done no good. "Please... I'm help... helping, don't."

The last thought she was capable of was confusion. She couldn't ascertain what she was trying to convey to him. It didn't matter. The shadows engulfed Michelle Danvers, and the entirety of her consciousness.

Her surroundings quaked around her, rattling the woman out of her comatose state. There was a constant buffeting, and the growl of high capacity engine. With a startled gasp, her lids snapped open, revealing two dilated, olive-toned eyes. The ceiling was convex, oblongly dome shaped. Her mind worked quickly, gathering information and fabricating an answer.

A plane.

She was on a plane.

Fighting off the superficial sense of terror, Danvers surveyed her surroundings between breaths. The rows of seats adjacent to her were vacant. Grinding the back of her head against the cot until she had a few of the cockpit, Danvers searched for someone. Again, she discovered no one. Her heart hammered against her ribcage.

Grimacing at the pain, she lifted her neck - and by her feet, her kidnapper and formerly vegetated client. He sat in a chair, supported by industrial strength straps of green and black. Her eyes danced across his profile. As the breathing evolved into strained panting, Danvers released the substructure of muscles in her neck and flopped back against the flimsy cushion.

_**POV: BANE**_

Leaning forward, Bane folded his hands between his knees. He let his head sink in between his shoulders, which were swelling up around his ears. The men surrounding him and the attorney said nothing and watched curiously in silence as to why their leader was taking so much interest in the woman. They all cradled their weapons like infants, ready at any given time to be shoved into battle. It didn't matter that there was no threat - it wasn't even a requirement to be on their toes. They chose to dedicate their entire being to the masked man.

As the plane periodically hit air pockets, the young attorney's body would shake like JELL-O. Bane would hear a sigh coming from another section of the plane, in which he would slowly bring his eyes to. No one would dare to make eye contact, confessing that they were the one disappointed that the jerk in the plane failed to wake her up. With none of his men owning up, he pulled his attention back onto Danvers and instantly perked up upon seeing her body rustling without the help of the plane.

Bane waited patiently and threw his eyes in the direction of his men, warning them about making any sudden disruptions. When in the corner of his eye he saw Danvers break open hers, he placed his undivided attention onto her. Taking note of her body language, Bane started the task of calming her down. "No need to feel alarmed, _attorney_." His eyes made a speedy check on the pilot. "There's no harm _here_."

_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

Danvers was not indestructible and though they were scarce, there were situations that crippled the attorney emotionally. She could usually contort her face into a strong expression and flounder through the rest of the day, pushing the sentiment away from the surface.

Staring up at the darkened ceiling, she debated whether or not this was one of them. Having an irrational fear of planes had definitely succeeded in clouding her judgement and making the situation appear more frightening, but the fact remained that she was on an aircraft going to she knew not where. She had been abducted, in a very black and white sense of the word.

Jim Gordon had probably already been notified of the incident at the hospital, and discovered that she was missing. People were searching for her, no doubt, but to no avail. Danvers couldn't pinpoint her location if she tried. Wrapping her fingers around the thickest part of her thigh, she was reminded of her cellphone, tucked away in the depths of her pocket. It wouldn't work, not at this altitude.

"No need to feel alarmed, attorney."

Her brows pulled together. "I'll try," she cooed, sounding somewhat dishonest. Filling her chest with air, she slid her arms up, and lifted her torso. With the weight on her elbows, she could stay upright for at least a few minutes. Bane's attention was fixed on her, never wavering. Allowing the moments to slip by like the scenery outside the small oval-shaped windows, Danvers returned the stare.

"You kidnapped me," she finally said. Habitually, when a statement like that was announced, it was tainted with a sense of sorrow. The emotional sagas were contained. Her voice was void of any hatred, and instead, genuinely curious.

**_POV: BANE_**

"You are _correct_.", he answered her. "I am your _captor_! And this is my _plane_!" Sitting back, both his hands lifted up high, appearing as though he were worshiping a God above. After instilling a bit of intimidation, his mind abruptly clicked back to normality, signaling to the rest of his body to calm down. His arms then lowered and replaced themselves back to their original positions.

He blinked heavily, watching her curiously. "I do _hope_ you had nothing _scheduled_.", he said tiredly, with half the time keeping his eyes on her and the other sliding onto one of the eager men. He then raised his hand midway and beckoned minimally with a finger. The man jumped up out of his seat and, with the orders already programmed into his head, began executing them without drawing attention to anything. He traveled through the middle aisle of the plane and then disappeared into the cockpit.

When he felt comfortable that the plans were running smoothly, Bane returned his concentration back onto Danvers. "Forgive _me_ if the accommodations are not _suiting_." His eyes rested on her as if he were a parent bringing up a concerning issue about school. "But our ride _here_ is soon coming to an _end_." His voice was crackling hard and sounding like he desperately needed a drink of water. He then noticed the man sent earlier break out of the curtains that separated the rest of them from the pilot. He nodded, which was acknowledged and silently responded to.

Knowing what had to be done next, Bane looked at Danvers with a solid stare. Despite the sudden turbulence they were feeling, he was able to keep his head and body remarkably stiff. His eyes widened, while the middle of his brow pinched together. He followed her body down to the tips of her toes and then all the way back. There was a strange hint of worry on his face, like he painfully disagreed with some news he'd just been given. "I _need_ you -." He paused feeling something overwhelm him. "To _trust_ me, Ms. Danvers."

Suddenly, every man on the plane rose up and began shuffling around the plane. They each grabbed a parachute, placed it on, and then filed a line by the door. One man shouted an order in another language, loud enough for the pilot to hear. Immediately, the plane began shifting course and whatever stability was left was soon lost. Bane quickly shot out his hand and placed it on Danvers' stomach, holding her strongly in place. His eyes were now possessed with an intense energy as he connected an unbreakable gaze with her. "_Can_ you." He dropped the tone that would make it a question and instead redesigned it to aim it at her spirit.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

Her lips separated, looking as though she had intentions of saying something. Every time the words danced across her tongue, she swallowed them back down. Nothing she said here would be valid enough to change her situation, so she saw no point in continuing. At Bane's wish of not interrupting her crowded schedule, a breathy, meek laugh escaped. For the life of her, no cases, no interviews were coming to mind - and in the event that she did have something planned, being kidnapped by one of Gotham's most influential criminals was a more than legitimate reason to ask for a rain check. If she was even alive to request that - snapping her eyes shut, muzzling the irrational idea of death.

Bane's fingers motioned to a man standing nearby, and though no words were said, the man instantly went into action, darting down the aisle and receding from view. The attorney was used to operating at a swift pace. Despite that, there was something extremely destabilizing about how fast things were moving within this plane. There was a chaotic tinge to whatever orders these men had been given prior to boarding the aircraft, like they'd execute the task no matter what, even if the end result was death.

Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated and hinting on the oncoming hysteria that roiled in the depth of her stomach. As the men returned, one of them casually tossed a compacted parachute towards another. Her mouth was agape now, green eyes scanning back and forth. "...our ride here is soon coming to an end."

Every occupant, excluding herself and Bane were assembled, single file by the emergency exit door. Straight backs, eyes ahead. The turbulent jostling she had experienced before was nothing compared to the current one. Her hand flew out from her side, latching onto the edge of the cot with a death grip.

"I need you to trust me, Ms. Danvers."

"We're in the air," she panted. "In the middle of nowhere." The intensity of the situation hit her full force as Bane's hand depressed against her stomach, securing her against the cushion. It wasn't the gentle caress she'd experienced in the cell this morning. "We're... jumping. No. Please. No." Her voice was a few octaves higher than normal, braided with terror.

Another unfamiliar command was shouted. This time, instead of the man disappearing behind curtains, a hand gripped the red lever, pulled up, and then abruptly jerked down. The door swung in, allowing a deafening sound to pervade the cabin. She panicked, jerking as hard as she could against his force. "I don't think it's about me trusting you, Bane! It's about me not wanting to be on a military aircraft while the only familiar face is descending below me!" she screamed, hoping her words would be overheard the clamor.

The wind that had rushed in was now whipping her blonde hair across her cheeks. Her hands were shaking violently as she reached up, placing her hand on top of Bane's. "I've already put a lot of trust into you, haven't I?" She was fronting. She knew that. However, being conscious of what she had just agreed to, a little false confidence was imperative.


	7. Run

_Replies: batmanbane - Thank you so much for reviewing and complimenting the story! We both appreciate it. :) Also, thanks for the suggestion, I hadn't thought that fics in the romance genre probably get more attention. Keep enjoying!  
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_**POV: BANE**_

There was little time before the plane would be swallowed inside the clouds. And no visibility meant a very high chance of fatally splatting into the side of a mountain. Bane calculated the remaining minutes they had until impact. There wasn't much, which limited the amount of time he was able to debate the decision with Danvers. Though, deep inside of him, he had already planned a forceful verdict, assuming her anxiety of being on the plane would disrupt her capability to make up her mind.

Bane turned his head to his men, as one of them shouted and then pushed themselves off. And as if they were all attached by rope, one by one they followed the leader. The last of them finally made their jump, leaving the attorney, the masked man, and the pilot inside the plane. Feeling that words were not appropriate anymore, Bane rose up and then approached the single parachute that was left. He took it off the hook, slide it on over both shoulders, and then returned back to Danvers.

Without warning, Bane bent forward and picked the attorney up. As if she were a lifeless object, he ignored making any eye contact or recognition at all to her existence. He then took the strap around his mid section and looped it around her, pulling it around them twice. The third and last time was yanked firmly, pulling her face uncomfortably close to his chest. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, almost seeming as one.

Acting calmly, Bane didn't appear affected by this at all. He went about the procedure as planned without any type of physical disturbance. However, on the inside was a different story. It'd been a very long time since he felt a woman so close. There had not been a warmth from another body that mingled with his. And suddenly, now there was. It was either that he was so numb to not regularly having the touch of a woman or he had built an indestructible wall inside of him that kept his feelings back.

Though, Bane's eyes did slip once and grazed over Danvers' face in a passionate sense. He caught himself getting caught up in the moment and ripped away from it, throwing himself back into the mission at hand. When the straps were secured and ready, he shuffled them to the door. The wind was harsh, thrashing at them at every which way. However, it wasn't enough to keep him from steadying his attention onto her. "My _objective_ - is not to kill _you_." His arms then wrapped around her. "It's to keep you _alive_." No countdown, no signal - Bane tilted them both over the edge, handing them over to the current of the air. Their bodies were taken and tossed into a free fall.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

It was remarkable how effortlessly Bane had lifted Danvers up. If she had time to, the attorney would've marveled. She was cradled by two massive arms and despite the plane's turbulence, Danvers felt only the sway of his steadfast gait. Fluidly, Danvers had slipped from the comforting position, replaced with his stomach pressing uncomfortably tight against her own. There was a rich, resonating sense of warmth between the two of them, though the moment was ripped from Danvers' slender fingers as Bane spoke.

She didn't get the chance to answer before gravity left her. Bane fell out the opening first, allowing Danvers a nano second to bring her hands up to his neck. Tensing every muscle in her body, the attorney did the only thing she knew she was physically capable of at that moment; hiding. She buried her face into his chest, and let out a scream, deep within her lungs. Her eyes and lips were clamped shut, preventing any vulnerability from showing. What was she worried about? She was free-falling out of an airplane with a man that could break her without batting an eyelash.

Her blonde hair whipped wildly about her face, strands in every direction. Her stomach convulsed, churning with an uncontrollable sickness. The currents of the wind pulled them in directions, ones that Danvers couldn't identify. She knew that Bane's arms still enfolded her, and as his words came back to the attorney's mind, subduing the sound of the wind, she dug her fingers into his warm flesh.

She heard him pull the string, and heard the beating of the parachute's fabric as it fought to slow them down. Seconds seemed like hours, and after another muffled cry, Danvers was shaken roughly against his chest. Tears were pooling at her eyes like sapphires and her entire form was quivering underneath the safety of the straps.

The attorney opened her eyes, looking straight up at him. Her lips parted, a full bodied howl of terror, of pain, and of rage pouring out. "Let me-" One blow after another, Danvers beat on Bane's chest, panic-stricken. There was no denying the sensation crawling steadily up her throat. "DOWN! Pl-please!" Reaching up, Danvers only accomplished slapping feebly at the bottom of his jaw.

Struggling against the restraints, Danvers wound her arms around Bane's side, fumbling for the buckles. She ground her teeth, suppressing the first heave as she wrenched the buckle loose. All too quickly, she separated from Bane, falling to the dirt below with a thud. Not caring about appearances, she clawed at the ground, pulling herself up and towards the nearest pile of rocks. She had only managed to get to her knees before her body lurched forward and the retching began. Air sickness would've the most predictable cause for the woman's acute and spasmodic vomiting, though the underlying realization that she had no knowledge of how to handle herself at that moment was to blame.

After her stomach contents had been emptied, her body slumped against the warm rocks. She was fully conscious, but too decrepit to move. The attorney focused on her breathing, doing her best to ignore anyone who might've witnessed the incident.

**_POV: BANE_**

The fall was bringing her closer to him. It was surprising at first, but as the feet between them and the ground reduced rapidly, a comfort was developing at the same time. He didn't fight it and instead let her move her body as she wished. Adventure apparently wasn't something she searched out often. Being in an office building, with eyes glued to files and perfect attendance in a courtroom, he understood would keep the woman away from the outside world.

Bane knew what shock her body was in. But it was necessary training. She needed to be ripped out of her comfort zone and thrown into a world that had been flipped upside down in order to endure the future plans he would involve her in. There were other parts of the world she was unfamiliar with and needed to be exposed to if she were to continue down the path she had chosen for herself. If criminals were her strong point, then he'd have her prove that to him.

When they hit the ground, Bane prepared for her reaction. At first, he thought he had her figured out. But when she freed herself in order to scurry to the nearest rock pile to puke, he stood back slightly astonished. He hooked his hands around the neck of his vest and watched as she lost it into the dirt. His breathing was regular inside his mask as his eyes blinked and moved about their surroundings. He nodded mildly to himself, accepting the situation at hand and agreeing that the adventure quickly following would be an unpredictable one.

Bane let her finish, not disturbing her once and instead decided to investigate the area around them. He took note to the two men he saw on the ground and lifeless. He knew this because two of the parachutes had been cut previous to the flight. After nodding a second time, he then turned halfway and, in the distance, saw three men approaching him. The heat was causing their images to sway and appear like flags flapping in the wind.

The land around them was half barren and half wild vegetation. They'd be taking the bountiful route, heading directly through the two mountains and coming out the other side. A dark cloud about a mile and half away was threatening to dump a mini storm on them. There'd be no way they'd be able to outrun it, leaving the only option to wait it out. He stared up at it a moment, outlining its details as the lighter clouds swirled and handed themselves over to the dark.

It was all fascinating, until he the presence of his other company disturbed him. Or rather the lack thereof, learning this upon turning back around to face Danvers. However, there was no face that he could face, seeing only the pile of rocks she was once lying on. Knowing she couldn't have gotten very far, he snapped his head to the right of him and zeroed in on her moving figure. Footsteps behind him were closing in and sounding louder by the seconding, revealing that his men were hustling and soon to be right behind him. He turned around to greet them all with a calm frustration. They all came to a halt and awaited their command from their leader.

Bane then slowly approached the man in the center, who was a few steps in front of the others. He slapped his hand firmly on the man's shoulder and turned his head in the direction that Danvers was running. He shot out his other arm, chopping it stiffly through the air, and aimed it at the attorney. "_Follow_ her!", he said, sounding oddly jovial. His attention then hooked back onto the man, his eyes wide and impatient. He threw the man forward, which sent him stumbling, but quickly recovered from it and launched himself into a sprint. Startled and dumbfounded, it took a menacing glare from Bane to get the other two in motion. He watched as they kicked themselves into gear and pursued the woman.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

Still collapsed against the uneven surface of the boulders, she turned her head, hoping to get a feel for her surroundings. Maybe even come to a conclusion of where they had landed. Desert on one side, lush greenery inviting them on the other. Having rested from the spasms of vomit, Danvers redirected her attention to the other men. Their landing had obviously been less comfortable than her own, because they hadn't succeeded in getting to their feet as quickly as she. When the realization struck, she used all her strength to straighten her head and get a closer look.

A sliver of bone was protruding out of the bottom of the man's head, blood seeping into the moisture deprived ground below him. His jaw jutted awkwardly out to the side, accommodating the sudden change in the structure of his skull. Deep, lifeless eyes stared back at the attorney. He wasn't recovering from the fall, he had died. After confirming that the other man was also deceased, another heave brought the woman forward. Bane, he had cut the cables, ensuring a fatal descent for those two.

With Bane's back turned, attention obviously invested in something else, Danvers gingerly brought one leg up, the other following seconds after. Now on her haunches, the woman counted to five. Using the ground as leverage, Danvers pushed herself up and took off in the opposite direction. Killing the men who had helped him only moments ago, but keeping an individual woman alive... She couldn't see the logic in his decision. Only fear. It clouded her vision as she ran, stinging the corners of her eyes. Staying with him wasn't an option.

The soles of her shoes beat against the desert, unevenly taking the task. They were meant not for escapes, but the carpeted floors of courtrooms. Removing them would only slow her down, they'd have to endure the sprint, designed for it or not. Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to regulate her breathing. She'd run. She'd run until her phone could pick up a reliable GPS signal. That signal would be sent to Jim Gordon, enabling him to pinpoint her coordinates and attempt a rescue mission.

Lips parted, Danvers turned her head. Three new men had taken to chasing her, predictably ordered to do so by Bane. They bounded over dilapidated bushes and piles of rubble with ease, mimicking the appearance of an agile tiger, riddled with a killer instinct, humorously pursuing a naive creature who thought they could outrun their death. Snapping her head back around, Danvers attempted to quicken her pace by elongating her strides. Jaw clamped shut, she screamed against her teeth. Recalling the vigorous training she went through in her years of track and field, outrunning three men should've been a seemingly comfortable exercise. Assuming that she had that advantage, she darted to the right.

A command was shouted, in yet another foreign language. She hadn't anticipated the men's decision to run in a pyramid like formation, which allowed the one on the far right to gain on her. She turned her head, damning herself for the change in course. The man was close enough that she could see the deadpan look upon his face, only interested in completing the order given to him.

She was fast, but they were faster. A hand reached out and latched onto her shoulder. His heels skidded in the dirt as he fought to restrain her. Danvers refused to give up, despite his strength and as a result, the two men joined in. One came bolting from the right, crashing into her with brute force. She hit the ground with a shrill cry, writhing underneath their weight. Nothing had been broken or damaged, except for the attorney's attempts at freedom.

The third and final man jogged up, breathy laughs pervading the trio. Still battling the hands that withheld her thrashing limbs, Danvers whipped her head to the side. She huffed and squinted into the distance. Bane was an insignificant speck across from her. She'd run surprisingly far in her frenzied dash, leaving her with a feeble sense of accomplishment. "Up," he said, heavily accented. She yanked her arm back, scowling viciously. Considering she was tugged to her feet moments later, the menacing expression had done little in changing their minds.

As if Danvers had a choice; one man grabbed each arm, the third gripping her legs and lifting them behind her. They had to walk in unison, steadily in case she tried to overthrow one of them. Comprehending that fighting the men at that point would be more detrimental than beneficial, she ground her teeth, staring straight ahead.

"What good am I to you out here?! A criminal defense attorney in the middle of the desert!" The last three words cracked as screamed. Her angry yell echoed, but most likely failed in reaching the one they were intended for. The weight in her buttoned pocket of her jacket assured her that the one lifeline had not been dislodged during the run. At least there was that.


	8. Privileges

_**POV: BANE**_

Watching in silence, Bane tapped and rubbed his thumb into his other four fingers. A few times he'd look away, feeling that the chase was taking longer than it should have. He figured he'd begin walking in their direction, lessening the time it took for them to bring her back to him. When he saw her finally being brought into their custody, he stopped. He observed the method she was taken down, not agreeing with it entirely - they'd definitely be given a "talking" to.

Upon seeing her be carried towards him, Bane picked up his slow stride. He hooked one hand around his vest, while the other continued fondling with itself. His steps were large, swaying his wide frame from side to side. When his legs were in motion, everything moved. There was no getting around not noticing him. Not even from a distance. His men had spotted their leader again and hustled to get back their kidnapped to him promptly.

A minute later, they were only a few feet away and slowed down to a complete and calm stop. Though, that was for the men anyway, while Danvers was harshly dropped to the ground. Bane kept the muscles around his eyes relaxed as he shared his attention between the faces of the men and the woman. Finally, he concentrated on the man he'd spoken to earlier, his eyes wide and showing pure anger. He chopped his hand down, aiming it at Danvers."You believe that is _proper_ treatment for our _guest_?" The man was speechless and if his heart could speak for him, he'd stutter like a woodpecker.

Bane tilted his head, waiting eagerly to hear his response. However, when nothing was delivered, his eyes darted away and dotted the land around him. He began softy nodding and turning his shoulders, as if he were expecting a vehicle to be rolling in from afar. "Your _gun_, please." The hand that was stiff and pointed at Danvers then shifted and flattened, waiting to feel the gun rest in his palm. His voice sounded mechanical and like a rope being pulled too quickly through gloved hands. His eyes were still avoiding contact with the man, no matter how badly the other fought to connect in order to understand the meaning behind the demand.

After realizing it wasn't going to happen, the man gulped dryly and lowered his head, his hands already in frantic motion to locate the pistol. When his hand finally wrapped around it, he lifted his head back onto Bane and slowly lowered it where it was being implied to go. Sweat was drizzling from his hairline, down over his nose, and resting in the cracks of his lips. Bane closed his fingers around the gun, lifted it nonchalantly nonchalantly, and then pointed it at him. A blast went off, followed by a powered plop as the body crumbled into the sand and patches of grass.

"We treat the lady with _respect_.", said Bane as he mildly bowed and raised both arms halfway out at his side. After straightening up, he took one last intense look at both of the men and then bitterly handed over the gun to closest of the two. "Our _journey_ begins now.", he commanded as he proceeded to walk.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

The support of the men ended as soon as Bane was close enough to see the whites of their eyes. With a heaved effort, they dropped Danvers to the ground. That was the third time that day she'd had the air knocked out of her, and the bruising of her tailbone and spine were starting to make themselves evident. Finally composing herself, two green eyes upturned towards Bane, just in time to see them dart away from her.

"Your gun, please." The words were out of place amongst her labored breathing and the occasional breezes of wind that surrounded them. Parting her lips to allow her confused exhalation, Danvers glanced briefly at the man, watching as he frantically stumbled for his weapon. The second it was found, it was surrendered shakily to Bane. With a composition that unnerved her, he fired the pistol into the man's chest. The muscles went limp and the man folded into the ground. Panicked, Danvers scooted herself away from the body, crashing into the shins of one of the still living men. Her chest heaved as she witnessed the thick crimson pumping out in an alarming volume.

Resembling water that had gone still unnaturally fast, the life had melted out of the man's eyes by the time he hit the ground. Fighting off another retch of nerves, she turned her head away, refusing to look at the corpse any longer. What she had run from initially was now bleeding next to her. A misplaced sense of guilt left the attorney feeling as though she had been inadvertently responsible for the man's death. The fighting side of her contested that point, however. He had chosen to drop her at Bane's feet like the carcass of a dead duck after a hunting trip. He had brought on his demise with that choice... Hadn't he? The fact remained that the death count was rising and there was little she could do to interfere.

She was torn from her internal dialogue, though with the direction the thoughts were headed, she willingly abandoned them. One of the men, now keenly interested in her well being, reached down and pulled her to her feet. Swallowing back his disdain, he brushed her off delicately, hopefully removing any dust that had collected. Like a boy scout, he supported her arms with his own as they followed in Bane's shadow. The false heroism again; only stepping up to save your own life. Uninterested in his forced display of concern, she scowled, retracting her hand from his grip.

"Don't," she hissed and snapped her attention forward. Sooner or later, he'd fall in step with his partner, who was directly behind Danvers, all while still being able to guard her. She'd be monitored, by both men and Bane - though, Danvers knew Bane expected a seamless journey with limited interruptions on her behalf. Her first attempt hadn't been a success and she was well aware that he thought higher of her intelligence than to try again.

With her back to the men, and Bane's back turned to her, Danvers casually dropped her hand to her thigh. She allowed it to swing to and fro, loosely with her gait. A casual conversation started behind her. She swallowed dryly and the tips of her fingers clung to the hemmed edges of her pocket. They worked nimbly to undo the button, then slipped in, closing around the cell phone. Concealing the device within her palm, she brought her arms up, crossing them tightly. To an onlooker, particularly the two behind her, she appeared frustrated and unsure of how to hold herself. The reality of the situation was that while she sighed and stomped forward, her right hand had slithered inside her jacket. Feeling more like a criminal than a woman who defended them, Danvers worked to pacify her nerves as she slid the phone against her skin. She tucked it into one of the bra's cups, angling it underneath her breast to where it looked most inconspicuous.

In the event that someone would try to denude her, she'd have to re-conceal her phone. Though, in that event, losing her one strand to the familiar world would be the least of her concerns.

**_POV: BANE_**

The air around them was cooling, meaning that the storm was approaching fast. The weather didn't bother Bane, who kept his pace strong and didn't hesitate once, not even at the sound of thunder. The flatland beneath their shoes only had so many feet left to go before it was swallowed up by rolling hills, trees, and abundant vegetation. The first crunch of twig and dead leaves under Bane's boot indicated the switch and was followed by the rest of his team.

The lighter of the footsteps belonged to Danvers, who Bane was able to keep an audible track of because of the distinct sound. The other two were heavy footed and trudged as if they were sifting through the leaves to find a lost item underneath. Tiny droplets then began peppering Bane's vest. They collected on his mask, joining together and filling inside the spirals of his air tubes. He lowered his head, so to keep the vent out of exposure. Streams of water trickled down his bald head and bare arms. Small puddles formed in the pits of his curled hands.

The two goons both exchanged glances, wincing at each other from the sudden dump of rain, and wondered how anyone could be so unaffected by the elements. Was there _anything_ that fazed this guy? They then realized they better plaster on their poker faces and show him they can be just as tough. A bolt of lighting then struck a mile away, instantly testing their courage. It was followed by a deafening crack, which sent the two men into a crouching position - they had failed.

Bane kept his stride, not paying any attention to the threats of nature or the reactions of those behind him. His eyes remained on the ground, scanning over the bits and shreds of what the plants and trees had shed over the season. The outside world wasn't a place he was made used to in his young years, and still at times felt foreign. Though he wasn't the type to serve himself pity over what had happened to him - his sentencing nor his "handicap" would provide it to him.

They were mere incidents in Bane's life that shaped the man he was today. He neither embraced or rejected periods in his life and he did what he did in according to survival. The image of him was a reminder to men of what being pushed to the limit looked like. And the one who was given the most harsh reminder of them all was the Batman. The same could be said for Bane, who was given a shock when the Dark Knight had returned from being placed inside the Pit. He understood he had finally met his match. And currently, once again, had come the time to show the Batman that Gotham will never be truly protected.

In Bane's possession now held a key part to the city - A woman who created quite the wave in criminal justice and Gotham's field of law. She was on a high pedestal and even rising beyond that. But not only professionally, but romantically as well. During his research, Bane had come across the attorney's past potential love interests and Mr. Wayne had come up as the most popular speculation. It intrigued him and was almost the complete inspiration to an instantly birthed plan, aside from the attorney's impressive credentials.

Bane, not even having to be told, knew what Talia had done with Bruce. It rolled over him at its best and was blocked from any internal wounds that never had the chance to heal. But now with a piece of Bruce's romantic puzzle in his care, Bane was able to play a similar game. It wouldn't be long until Gotham noticed one of its prized possessions missing and, more importantly, the strings attached to Bruce's heart would tugged, pulled, and stretched beyond capacity.

Eventually, Mr. Wayne's spirit would crumble again. And there would be another section of him that wouldn't make it back. How many more would it take until there would be nothing left? Only time would tell. He had already lost one important woman in his life - what would happen after another?

The site of a cave woke Bane out of his meditation and took control of his direction. He approached it and finally took shelter underneath it. He turned and waited for the rest to do the same and allowed the two men to pass him and take a seat against the stone wall. However, when Danvers was next to pass, Bane lifted a commanding hand in front of her, signaling her to stop. His eyes looked past her, watching as the rain covered every inch of the forest.

"_You_ will remain with _me_." Bane's eyes then slowly slid to meet with hers, along with his head. His concentration on her didn't break as he stayed motionless. After a moment, his fingers mildly curled and inched closer to her chest. His eyes dropped to where his fingers were heading, watching as they finally made contact with her wet skin. Blond hair had clumped around her cleavage and around the edges of her top, which he brushed away tenderly. Every strand was cleared in one fluid motion, revealing naked and chilled skin.

Bane then lowered his hand and slid it inside her bra, wrapping his fingers around the phone and removing it. "As will this.", he said, making swift eye contact. The phone looked like a toy being pinched between his two large fingers. His breathing was audible as he stared her down, silently warning her that he'd always be one step ahead of her. The phone was dropped inside the pocket of his cargo pants. He then took her firmly by the arm. "Communication is a _privilege_, Ms. Danvers.", he said as he led her to the back of the cave. "One you _haven't_ yet _earned_."

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

Their vehement reactions to the weather weren't all she needed to determine that these men had never set foot in Gotham City, but they did help a great deal. The state of New York was always depicted as stormy in films, books, television - and that wasn't far from reality. While the summer months were hot and desired both by vacationers and locals, every Gotham citizen was pleasantly surprised when the sky stayed blue. A pluvious downpour was usually anticipated.

The drizzle turned into a heavy shower within minutes, though the only reaction demonstrated by the attorney was the crossing of her arms and the beholden, almost passionate glance upwards. Unlike the two behind her, she was welcoming to the change in weather. It was a familiar thing in an unfamiliar place. If she closed her eyes and inhaled, imagining the smells of a rain sodden city, just maybe... maybe she'd feel at home. It'd be another wet night in she'd grown up in. Nothing more. She'd allow the stress to melt away, wash down her skin in ribbons...

Her lids peeled back. The change underfoot halted any comforting imagery the attorney was fabricating. Bane altered his direction, leading them towards a nearby cave. The sensation of peace that had previously been developing was wrenched from her tired grip. She was still a prisoner with no legitimate knowledge of her location. Frustration swelled underneath her skin as she trudged towards the opening of the cave, following the two men.

Muscles tensed, Danvers was stopped mid-step by Bane's calm but ominous gesture. Filling her chest with air, she prepared to hear that as a prisoner, she'd be put outside, exiled like a misbehaving dog. His eyes remained deviated from her for moments longer before he spoke.

"You will remain with me," he said finally.

Though she would've preferred to see any emotions play out, her eyes couldn't remain on his as his hand started to drop. She scrutinized every motion, watching intently. His fingers incurvated, delicately, and swept her dripping locks away from her chest. The strands left streaks on her skin, droplets gathering and eventually descending into the confines of her blouse.

Her lips parted, a scream poised on the tip of her tongue. Once Bane's fingers cleared the area of her neck, the worry of death passed. Seconds later however, another feeling ripped through her body with a surprising power. One that would still elicit a scream, but a very differently toned one. His large hand pressed into the top of her bra, and with help from the moisture, effortlessly glided in. Despite criminals and disasters, murders and scandals, her eyes were wider right then than they'd been in years. She slowed her breathing to almost nothing, desperately trying to avoid any further contact with the surface of his palm as it delved deeper into her clothing. The fabric stretched to accommodate the size, and for that nanosecond, Michelle Danvers completely forgot why he'd be venturing into her bra, grazing over untouched skin.

The phone, which was surprisingly still dry, was revealed to her, Bane's eyes only complimenting the calamity of the situation.

"As will this." Her expression was guilty, like a child who had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. There was no denouncing that she had tried to one-up Bane and his men. She sucked in her cheeks, exasperated. her entire form was quivering, fists clenched so tightly that her smoothed nails were breaking the skin of her palms. Without the help of a mirror, she felt the heated flush of her cheeks.

After the phone was secured in one of the pockets in his pants, Danvers had no choice but to follow, having being towed, towards the back of the cave. Bane gripped the upper portion of the attorney's arm sternly, not seeming to notice that she shuffled along, almost deadweight behind him. The sound of blood rushing filled her head, making it difficult for her to register anything else. Bane was speaking, but amongst her sporadic heartbeat and pulsing blood, the words were nothing more than a distant mumble, and something she wasn't capable of responding to.

Lightning cracked outside, flooding the inside of the cave for an instant. Bane's shadow took up the entire wall, filled and contorted every crevice. Her shadow was nonexistent, swallowed whole by his. Danvers lifted herself, straightening her spine. She'd do her best to appear strong. Though he had taken her away from home, tested her inner strength, and then removed her one strand of hope from her bra, she had no plans of breaking just yet.


	9. Roughing It

**_POV: BANE_**

Bane walked Danvers and him to the back of the cave, while the other two soldiers remained at the mouth. It was warmer to the back, the air trapped and muggy. A small, cool breeze was following them closely behind, which hit them in the face as he turned them around to lean and sit against the wall. Water trickled down through a small hole in the ceiling, offering a calming atmosphere to them.

The sun would be setting soon and it appeared the rain wouldn't be letting up until at least the morning. Bane decided they would set up camp and wait it out until they were able to brace the elements once again. "AJI!", he exclaimed, which set off a patter of slushy foot steps. The two men stopped at attention before the masked man, waiting for orders. "A fire." He gestured with his hand, aiming at a dry patch of area a few feet in front of him. "Make one! We will camp here tonight."

The two men nodded in unison, understanding their orders and executing them promptly. Pieces of dry wood, grass, and leaves were strewn about the cave, which they hurried to collect. The first batch was laid in front of Bane and Danvers, followed by a few more drop-offs. Once it was high enough, the smaller of the men lit a match and worked his magic to get the fire roaring. The hole at the top acted as a vent, sucking out all the smoke and keeping their lungs free of the pollutants.

However, the smell of the wood and leaves burning gave off a hint of sweetness to the air, along with spicy. It was another addition to helping relax the environment. Soft red, orange, and yellow light flickered over each of their faces. Bane's shadow then cast itself on the cave walls, looking menacing and frightening. The men watched as it danced and filled up the area behind him and the woman, irritating Bane in the process. "Prepare the food. Leave us.", he commanded, startling the men out of their daze.

Seconds later, Bane and Danvers were alone again. "You will eat now. Your energy must be kept." One of the men returned and placed a tea kettle over the fire. When he was finished, he left again. "Are you cold?", he asked, his concerned muffled by metal.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

She followed Bane, sullen, but vehemently determined to prove something. Right then, if she was asked what, an answer could not be given. Her unrelenting psyche was trembling and though Danvers seemed to always have an answer for everything, coherent explanations were something she wasn't capable of. Admitting that to herself as she made it to the back of the cave stung, vibrating disappointment throughout her core.

Glancing behind her before descending, she sunk down onto a flattened rock. She leaned forward, placing her elbows atop her knees. An ataraxia washed over Danvers, allowing her a brief moment to detach herself from her surroundings. When she opened her eyes again, she was greeted by the considerable blaze in front of her. The warmth of the fire outstretched its spindly fingers, first heating her calves. The heat rose, and despite her having not been cold to begin with, it wasn't long before Danvers felt the warmth surrounding her.

She wasn't sure her digestive system would cooperate with the food she'd be given, but taking into consideration that she hadn't eaten since that morning... she consented to eating. Bane followed up with a question she had already answered in her head. Indistinctly, she shook her head. "I'm fine," she added, straightening up to remove her jacket. Sitting in sopping clothes was never a good idea, and short of wringing her previously starched suit out, she could think of only one thing to do. She straightened up and began to shrug her shoulders out of the sleeves. The motion was interrupted when one of them returned, placing a grate, and then a kettle over the fire. Once he had returned to the front of the cave, assuring Danvers that his greedy eyes had turned to other things, she slid the first arm out, then second, and twisted the coat around, pulling it onto her lap.

Habitually, she smoothed out any major creases in the fabric. Now clad in a black, V-Neck shirt, more of the chill was evident against her skin. A sigh heaved itself from her lungs. The coat would be essentially useless here, even unbefitting. In one fluid motion, Danvers flipped the coat out, draping it over her legs. Whatever warmth the fire was giving off, she hoped, would dry out the garment.

**_POV: BANE_**

The flames of the fire rose and flickered in Bane's eyes. His attention was completely occupied by it, entranced by the way it moved and swayed. Memories flashed before him, reminding him of the same motion the hips of Moroccan women made. Unaware to him, his breathing escalated and his left hand tightened into a fist over his knee. The tea in the kettle began to boil, steam escaping from the spout. These signs didn't wake him from his stupor, which he remained in as the water rolled and bubbled within the iron. If it wasn't for one of the men returning again, there was no telling how long it would've went on boiling. The kettle was then removed from the fire and placed down on a flat boulder.

The boiling slowed and then stopped, along with Bane's momentary detachment from his current reality. Coming up for air, Bane breathed in deep and leaned back, smearing the palm of his hand down the length of his pants. His neck was completely stiff as he tilted backwards - and then he noticed the disappearance of his kettle. His wide eyes shifted from the fire to the left of him, spotting it simmering alone.

Bane let out a growl and got up, heavily approaching the tea. He knelt in front of it and measured up the spout to the grill of his mask, allowing the vapors to enter inside. He closed his eyes and breathed in. His hands hanged over the edges of his knees, twitching and grinding his fingertips together. As he did this, the two men returned and began laying out simple beds of wool, hunter green blankets. Two were placed side by side and a safe distance away from the fire, but enough to still feel the warmth. Packets of dehydrated soup and a tin cup of hot water were left where Bane was once sitting. Also, very carefully, a medium sized duffel bag was lowered to the ground.

The men then went off and made sleeping arrangements of their own in the other section of the cave. When he no longer felt the presence of the others, Bane paused what he was doing and turned to face Danvers. "Eat.", he said with a strong gaze, his mechanical voice bouncing off the rocks. He then lifted himself and slowly returned to his spot. As he saw the duffel bag, he bent over and reached for it, grabbing it in his hand and pulling it up with him. The zipper whined as he yanked it in one long, fluid motion.

Taking a seat while he dug through the contents of the bag, Bane appeared as he had done this many times before. With an item in his hand now, he lowered the duffel down at his side and revealed an object similar to that of an IV bag. His other hand then got busy unraveling the tubing connecting to it. A sterile needle was then pulled out, unwrapped, connected, and then inserted. Moments later after elevating the bag, the liquid inside traveled down the tube and inside his veins. His hand pulsed in and out of a fist, working the nutrients through his system.

_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

The abdominal muscles in her stomach tightened, fighting with the cold, brutal sense of nausea that swept over her. Her psyche was split in two; one found an ataraxia from the surrounding storm that drenched everything within a ten miles radius, and the other couldn't suppress an unknown passion inspired by the dancing flames in front of her. Heaving her head into her hands, Danvers attempted to remove herself from the situation. She failed, but at least she had the credibility of trying.

Shuffling footsteps forced her eyelids away from each other, bringing her back into reality. Two blankets were laid out on the ground, side by side, and while she wasn't going to complain about the lack of comfort, she wasn't looking forward to the stiff neck that usually accompanied a night on the floor, or against a wall. She'd done it many times in a more superficial environment; flights had been delayed and she'd been forced to sleep in the airport, disasters in Gotham City confined her to her office for two days at a time, resulting in the unforgiving couch becoming her bed.

"I... sorry," she said as she shimmied past him. The backs of her calves pressed against his knees. Careful not to disrupt Bane's procedures, she leaned forward and stretched her fingers until they reached the cup of already boiling water and the packet. Once she had safely acquired both of them, she brought the silver pouch to her open mouth. She ripped the package open and flipped it, emptying the contents into the eyes stared down into the cylinder as if it would give her some answers. When she saw nothing but powder and papery flecks of vegetable swirling with liquid, she sucked in a breath of air and turned around in the tight space.

Now facing Bane, she hesitated, watching the meaty tendons in Bane's fist pulse with each clench. The idea of Bane getting his nutrients by way of IV was nothing new to her; it's exactly what they had done at the hospital to restore him to stability. She returned to her designated rock and plopped back down.

Allocating a few minutes for everything to mix together, she braced the cup on the flat plane of her knee. Once the soup had cooled to a tolerable level, Danvers gulped down a huge mouthful. As she swallowed, a cough bubbled up her throat. There had always been a certain dustiness to dehydrated foods, one that Danvers had yet to conquer. However, the hunger that rolled within her stomach was rampant, encouraging her to gulp down the soup and revel in the feeling of fullness and warmth that she'd desire later if she refused the meal.

There was no sense in wasting time, the sooner she downed the soup the sooner she could curl up on the blanket and shut her eyes. Not only was sleep winsome at that moment, but it was something she knew she required. Any further deprivation would result in health issues that she wasn't prepared to handle. She threw her head back, blonde tresses fell away from her neck, exposing the skin. In a few labored gulps, the cup was empty and proudly placed on the rock beside her.

"Well," she started, eye pinned to the covering below her. "I think I'll sleep."

The true translation of her statement was that she thought she'd lay down, knowing that sleep wouldn't come for at least an hour. Her mind, heart and nerves were all tangled in a mass of live wires, writhing with galvanizing energy. She placed her arms behind her, supporting her weight as she slid down off the rock. After straightening, she made the short trek around the fire and picked one of the blankets to be her own. Selfishly, she chose the one closer to the fire. She assumed Bane was used to enduring harsh elements of weather, and if he wasn't, he certainly refused complaining.

She kneeled down and let out a yelp. Rolling onto her rear, slender fingers slithered under the fabric and retrieved the cause of her minor injury. Bright green eyes narrowed as she held it up. Underneath the blanket, a jagged rock had poked through the fibers and pressed harshly into her knee. Visibly disgruntled, a low growl rumbled through her throat as she flicked the stone towards the mouth of the cave. A malicious part within her hoped the medium sized pebble struck one of the men.

Realizing that her display of irritation had been witnessed by another, Danvers turned, stiffly to face Bane. Pursing her lips into a thin, pink line, she scrambled for her dignity. When the eye contact became too humiliating, she lowered herself down onto the blanket and crossed her arms.

"I visited the desert once..." she said, yawning. "It was a long time ago, and I was in a hotel. Pardon me if I'm not used to roughing it in the wild, Bane. Goodnight." To Danvers, the words she had just spoken were used as a common defense tactic. She'd be the first to admit that she had lived a very affluent lifestyle. She waited a few moments for a response, only greeted by the crackling pops of the firewood. Danvers turned on her side, tucking her arms around her torso.

**_POV: BANE_**

While the liquid did its magic to refuel him, Bane stared straight down at his knees. Generally, physical contact with him would be avoided by anyone, doing everything in their power to be on the opposite side of the room as him. But this time the woman cared not to prevent from brushing against him. Her courage perplexed him, his heavy eyebrows signaling that he was lost deep within the thought. There was something familiar about her energy - though he couldn't quite name it.

Upon hearing Danvers drinking, Bane was released from his pondering and shifted his concentration on the attorney. His eyes followed the cup to her lips as it pressed into her mouth and then pulled away. After seeing that she had speedily finished and replenished her nutrition, he nodded in satisfaction and returned his attention to the needle in his arm. However, it didn't keep there long. Danvers then spoke up, telling him that she'd be sleeping. He turned to her again, watching as she attempted to get comfortable in the provided beds.

But with the bag close to empty, Bane needed to tear away from watching the attorney's habits and finish up with his procedure. Slipping the needle out, he discarded it, along with the bag. The tubing was placed back inside the duffel - but before zipping it up, he paused when hearing Danvers speak. The energy he felt earlier was creeping up on him again, causing his eyes to sway uneasily back and forth on the ground. His mind recalled a hotel he knew very well when he was younger. Then again, there were others also located in the desert, which suddenly calmed his will to pry. Once his mind was at ease again, he continued zipping up the bag and tucking it safely away. He then walked to his bed and stopped beside it. The vest he was wearing was no longer of use to him, which he then proceeded to take off.

Bulky muscle was revealed, along with scars and uneven skin. He tossed the vest to the side and took a seat on the blanket. Not caring to take off his shoes or whether they were touching the blanket, he bent one leg up and threaded the other through the triangular gap it made. He then propped his arm up on his knee and gazed into the fire. Assuming the thought from earlier wouldn't come to surface again, he allowed himself to slip into a daydream.

But, without warning, the visions of Bane's past came haunting him again and triggered the curiosity about what Danvers had told him. His head then snapped to her and, not caring if she was asleep or awake, he began his interrogation. "Which desert exactly, Ms. Danvers?"


	10. Side-Sleeper

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

Eyes glazed over as Danvers did her best to focus on the steady downpour of the rain outside. She found that more beneficial in terms of sleeping than the common suggestion of counting sheep. Her lids grew heavy, drooping once... twice... three times.

"Which desert exactly, Ms. Danvers?"

Lids now the weight of air, the attorney was wide-eyed and startled. Bane's curiosity wasn't the alarming factor. Danvers wrote that off as he was constantly gathering intel on the people surrounding him, good or bad. The aspect of the question that had the flesh of her hands pulled taut over her the ridged bone of her knuckles was the answer.

_Fabric draped from every corner of the room, the rich aroma of the foods in front of them lingering within the billows. Six friends, three women and three men were enjoying their first exotic meal. One of the women had her arms crossed. Her features were soft and rounded and twisted up in an expression of hesitation. _

"_Oh, come on! It's called Bastilla. It's just chicken... with cinnamon and powdered sugar - that's what it is, right? Right - on top. It's like a desert, Miss-"_

_The young girl squinted, shaking her head back. "I know what it is. Chicken isn't a desert though and that's my problem, this is weird. I'm going back to the hotel, guys. Enjoy your weird... thing."_

"_It's our first night! Don't be such a downer."_

_Ejecting herself from the cushions, the woman exited the small restaurant and fell into the throngs of people passing in the narrow alleys. Even with the cerise sun sinking into the horizon, this city refused to relax. Trinkets and treasures of every imaginable classification were being sold. Animals, food, textiles... the list went on. _

_Amidst her gawking, the young woman crashed into a sturdy shoulder. She wheeled around, hurrying to apologize and instead saw only the hooded figure duck behind one of the many booths that decorated the street. Something strange settled in the woman's stomach. Enough of a feeling, in fact, to provoke her to turn around and return to the restaurant. _

Danvers didn't realize that the images burning her memories had affected her physical form so severely as they had. Her wrists were trembling with the crushing force that her fists were exerting, clenching as tight as they could. Had she endured her violent response a second longer, the tender skin of her palm would've produced blood.

Attempting to mask the vehement reaction his posed question had caused, she shifted on the bedding. Crossed her legs, uncrossed them and lifted her waist, only to drop it seconds later. She decided against turning over to reveal her expressions to him. He was a skilled man, probably in more ways than she'd ever know. Determining if someone was lying by peering into their souls, Danvers considered that a skill he had, in all likelihood, mastered long ago.

"It was a long time ago, I don't remember the name of the place."

That was a blatant lie and she knew it. There was a full-bodied remorse undulating within her chest, wrapping its distorted fingers around every rib. "Arabia or something. If I remembered every vacation I ever went on, I'd be well... naming them off for hours. My parents were wealthy, my friends were wealthy. Vacations were common."

_**POV: BANE**_

With the tip of his finger grinding into the pad of his thumb, it was clear that Bane's attitude was changing rapidly. His eyes wouldn't stay in one spot for more than a few seconds until they'd leap onto a new area. At the mere mention of Arabia, his mind began flipping through a series of possibilities. But it was impossible - and his mind was very close to ruling it as such and moving on, being extra careful now not to let the past leak in and interfere with his plan.

But being already emotionally distraught from the loss of Talia, Bane was easily cracking and showing more dimension to what he kept locked up and hidden away inside. His back rose and fell higher and lower each time as his thoughts progressed. Now, it was becoming too uncontrollable to not be persistent on the subject. He started playing with words in his head, stretching out the strange silence between him and the attorney.

"I know the Sahara desert well.", he finally spit out.

_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

Taking note of the extended period of silence, Danvers thought her answer was sufficient enough for Bane and he dropped the subject. That would have been a thought that was easily negotiated within her own mind if the strange breathing patterns couldn't be heard over the crackling fire. He was heaving each breath of air as if he was labored in doing so.

Seconds before Danvers considered turning over to get a visual assessment on him, he spoke. It was harshly uttered and a bizarre statement to make. Her muscles relaxed, arms snaking around her sides again. Brows furrowed, lips turning down in a nonplussed frown.

"I wouldn't doubt it," she affirmed. Thunder rolled above them, echoing miles around. She lifted her head briefly, peering over the heaps of men in front of her. The rain had picked up, though judging by the subtle lightning in the horizon, the storm would pass by the morning. Putting an end to her gazing, Danvers lowered her head back down onto the scarcely cushioned surface. Her arms provided a warmth, one that was comfortable enough that the attorney's eyelids drooped shut. Her breathing steadied as the weighty feelings of fatigue set in. When the thunder next crashed, one of her arms fell limply away from her side.

She moaned in her sleep and in one fluid motion, changed sides. Though she wasn't aware, Danvers was now facing Bane. One hand was tucked under her blonde hair, the other underneath her stomach. Pink lips remained closed, but puffed outward with the gentle exhale and inhale. It was a sleeping pattern that she had fallen into night after night since high school, all through college, and still to this day. All movement ceased as she slipped into a deep slumber for the remainder of the night.

POV: BANE

Danvers' answer wasn't satisfying and caused him to turn his head in disappointment. Despite the thunder vibrating his world around him, nothing could seem to shake him out of the perplexity that he dived headfirst into. His eyes were rigid as his mind meticulously fingered through his past, struggling to relive the sensations he once knew before his tragedy. They were cloudy, mostly because of the painstaking training he went through to erase them almost completely.

However, Bane kept a tiny fragment of it, unknown to anyone except himself. He barricaded it, being sure that no soul could tap into that area and use it against him. He had even fooled the League of Shadows. Though, being in the Pit for as long as he had and withstanding the pain he was dealt, it was no wonder he was able to master such a capability. Aside from the help of his painkillers, he was a living example of strength birthed completely from pain.

Not before long, Bane had realized how long his mind had stepped away from awareness. He slightly fell back and looked around him, eventually dropping his head to Danvers. She was asleep and looking peaceful doing so. He couldn't break away from her face, staring at it with such a force that her skin may end up cracking. The mild burn in his chest suddenly began to swell up and filled his entire cavity. He was seeing something that he hadn't recognized before.

Bane's hand twitched, hesitant to move and execute what his mind was telling it to do. Finally, it reached the courage it was trying for and cautiously approached Danvers' face. Once more he hesitated just before making contact. And then - he did it. He cupped his hand softly over her mouth, careful not to wake her. He blinked before slowly tilting his head to the side, getting a better look. It took only a few seconds until he was able to make the connection. The gate had broke. His emotions, his memories, his youth that he fought so hard to keep down smashed itself free. It was her. The woman from his past.

Tears began filling up around his eyes, which then rolled to the corners and over his temples, descending onto his blanket. A weak cry echoed inside his mask, sounding as if he was struggling to catch his breath. Without warning, he collapsed onto his shoulder, his hand peeling away from her mouth. He then fell flat on his back and gazed stiffly up at the ceiling. One hand lay listless on his chest, while the other was at his side. He lightly shook, feeling as the anger made its way through his veins.

He was heating up fast, his skin now blanketed with a layer of sweat - and not because of the fire. He couldn't understand how, of all people, she would be the one he'd choose. The chances to be practically impossible. But no matter how high or low the probability, the fact of the situation was that the game had now changed. Plans could not commence as they were made before. New arrangements would be reached.

Sleep would be difficult to achieve, but Bane knew it needed to be done. He remained in the same position, reluctant to look at her face anymore. The painkillers were doing nothing to help his heart, which was cracking in all the same places it had before. The years of mending was undone, along with he, as he laid motionless and bound with agony inside himself. His eyes then closed and moments later, he'd fallen asleep.

The next morning, Bane was awake before everyone and prepared to begin the new journey he had constructed seconds after waking up. He kicked the two men to get up, who instantly started writhing in their blankets, still groggy from the prior day's adventures. "Rise!", he commanded with a strong tone. While letting the two men gather up their consciousness, Bane marched to the back of the cave and spotted that the fire was still alive, but barely. He retrieved the cup used by Danvers and scooped water up into it. He turned to the fire and doused it, which hissed and sizzled out. "Time to open your eyes, Ms. Danvers.", he said with slightly less force than he used with the men.


	11. Mind Your Temper

_Replies: PixieElea: Aw, thank you for reading it! I'm glad you're enjoying it! _

_batmanbane: Thank you! We try to stay true to the character as much as possible - I'm not a fan of people who turn Bane into a complete teddy bear. Sure he's capable of that, but... it's not going to happen very often. Glad you picked up on that! And again, I'm writing this with another person, so it's not entirely my doing. But I appreciate the compliment! :) Thanks for reading!_**_  
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_Shawnee14: Aw, thank you so much! Their past is a bittersweet one, but I think it fits very well. You'll find out soon enough, my dear! ;) Thank you so much for reading!  
_

**_- P.S. There's a "new" character introduced in this chapter. He's got quite the temper. ;) Enjoy, everyone!  
_**

* * *

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

The night of slumber that the attorney faced was not the most revitalizing one she'd encountered. Several times throughout the night, she had dislodged her body from its comfortable spot, resulting in at least five minutes of readjusting. Shortly after though, she would descend back into a deep sleep. Every time she did arise however, she'd rotate her head and steal a glance at Bane. He, much like the other two men, were sleeping soundly.

It was a popular belief that criminals of his notability did not sleep - they operated on some superhuman level that did not require such activities. This was simply not true. Bane's chest rose and fell in an eerily steady pattern, one hand limp at his side while the other rested lightly on his chest. All in all, Danvers established, it was very humane. There wasn't a fiber in her being that contested that Bane was a man, but if there had been, this would've advanced her in that direction.

Around the time the storm passed over them, wrinkles had formed in the attorney's brow. Not of age, but of emotion. The dreams that plagued her were ones that she had hopelessly repressed in order to maintain the healthy life that she knew she deserved. First, the majority of her dreams were sand colored, mimicking the Moroccan surroundings she had tried to forget. Then, they were white and mint green; a reflection of the abortion clinic she had visited two weeks after returning from her vacation. Despite the first parts of the dream leaving a passionate taste in her mouth, the images that were associated were painful. Her lips tightened, brows furrowed, fists clenched. And for what? She would've asked herself that question, had she been awake. By defending her lack of nature skills, she had provoked Bane into asking a question that would trigger such recollections. Had she said nothing... her history would've remained imprisoned, hidden from the world.

"Time to open your eyes, Ms. Danvers." The words spoken were muted by her drowsiness, but accompanied by the smell of smoke, it took no more than a few seconds for her internal systems to engage. One hand was brought up, shielding her eyes as she stretched, all the way through her toes. A yawn ripped her jaws apart as she sat upright, surveying her vicinity. The two men were upright, rolling their blankets into tight bundles. Threads of smoke wound upward into the air.

She got to her feet silently, hardening the temporary cicatrix that she had laid over her memories. At some point in her future, she'd averred with herself to better her situation - maybe therapy, as much as she was ashamed to admit it. Now however was not the time, and until she was safely back in Gotham City, there would not be a time.

Making eye contact for a brief second to thank him for waking her up placidly, Danvers ducked behind Bane and returned to the flat rock she was sitting the night prior. Though moderately wrinkled, her suit coat had fully dried. It was unclear just what the weather would hold, so instead of dressing herself, she draped the jacket over her forearm. She brought her free hand up to her chin, following it as her neck turned. When a series of small, dull pops were heard, she repeated the action with the other side.

Her next gesture surprised even herself. She walked forward and stood next to Bane. Her eyes were directed towards the mouth of the cave, stern and unmoving. Throughout the years, Danvers had trained herself to be as strong-willed as possible. Succumb to no one or no circumstances. The submissive action of standing, almost proudly, next to him was a completely new sensation.

**_POV: BANE_**

With everything packed up by the hands of the two men, Bane was ready to leave the cave. But the presence he felt beside him made his legs dead weight, not being able to move, except to glide his eyes to their corners. He saw Danvers beside him, posture erect and looking ready to face whatever obstacle might come in her way. He wanted to feel pleased at her eagerness to go, but at the same time his past was hastily building a defense.

The cave was dripping from the aftermath of the rain, giving an eerie feel to their surroundings. It was suddenly hard to speak to her, allowing the silence to grow, which added to the drab atmosphere. His lungs finally pushed out enough air. "Come.", was all he was able to squeeze out. It barely reflected the intimidation he was so regularly pumping out before. He knew it, but chose to dismiss it, not caring if the other took note. The damp gravel beneath his boots crunched loudly as he walked towards the mouth of the cave. When he exited, the sun hit him square in the face, making him growl and instantly lower his head to shield his sensitive eyes from the blinding light.

Once Bane's sight adjusted, he lifted his head slightly and looked to the left of him. When he felt the bodies of his crew behind him, he weakly motioned with his fingers to follow his lead. "This way.", he commanded. Throughout their traveling, Bane periodically sneaked glances at Danvers, still marveling at his discovery of who she was. He continued the remainder of their walk in silence, periodically hearing a few mutters exchanged between the two men.

As they progressed through the mountains, a sensation struck Bane that trumped his current ordeal. It caused him to slow his stride and almost come to a full stop. The small distance that remained between them and breaking through to the other side of the mountain suddenly transformed into a much larger trek. Bane looked to the left of him, then to the right, then up above, trying to pin down the low hum he was hearing.

Then the upper half of Bane's body swiveled instantly as he shot a glance behind him. In the distance, he could see a plane heading in their direction. It didn't feel right and the swelling sensation of icy water in his gut was telling him that this was intended for him. Though, how would anyone find out? ...and then it painfully occurred to him. He slowly lowered his gaze onto the men, who were now aiming their pistols at him and Danvers.

The anger was apparent and flooded his eyes like a crashing tidal wave. He looked at them both, peering deep and strangling what souls they had left inside of them. There were a number a men looking for him, making the ability to figure out who they were working for extremely hard. The men gave no indication of their loyalties, except to him. It was very rare that something like this would be undetected by him, giving him the hint this loyalty of theirs was substantial.

They motioned with their guns to continue moving forward. As Bane turned, complying to their demands, he flashed a look at Danvers that told her he'd have this under control. Which, at any moment, he could have the complete upper hand ... this wasn't the first and probably nor the last that this would happen -however- out of selfishness, he wanted to know who was responsible for wanting him so desperately. He'd do everything they asked, making it very simple for them and more importantly, having them believe they were above him.

When they reached the outlet to the valley, a plane was seen parked about a half mile away. Its propellers were still slowing down and men were filing out, wearing nothing but black. Bane watched intently, counting six of them, and then noticing a break in the chain. A few minutes later, a much thiner and smaller man exited the plane, who by the looks of his mannerisms and the way the men formed around him, that he was the larger authority.

As Bane and Danvers were herded in front of the leader of the group, another feeling washed over him. The energy shared between them all was oddly familiar and again old memories were being nudged free. _No_, he thought. _It couldn't be_. The faces of the men were covered except for their eyes, which he met with every single one. He then ended on the man in front of him, who also had his face covered. However, the skin around his eyes was black and uneven - he was hiding a disfigurement. Nonetheless, he locked gazes with him, who displayed no weakness whatsoever. The silence lasted a few more seconds and then was broken. "When I heard the news of Talia's fate, I thought for sure you had joined her."

The words pierced through him like a chilled dagger. He understood now. But _why_ still needed to be answered. Bane chose to stay silent, feeling no obligation to give a response. The two men behind him then stomped forcefully at the backs of his legs, sending him to his knees. Bane allowed himself to drop, knowing that more physical intimidation was in his future. A tiny dust cloud formed around his legs, which blew off by a tiny gust that came in without warning. The leader looked pleased at Bane's position, standing over him proudly like a fisher with a big catch. His slender frame then bent forward, getting his cloth covered mouth uncomfortably close to Bane's ear. "You hide your face.", he whispered darkly. "And I'll hide mine."

Pulling slightly back, the man looked at the men behind Bane and nodded at them. "Tie him up." Immediately after the order, the two men began binding Bane's hands together tightly, leaving no room for him to wiggle out. However, it was never the wiggling that was problem. It was the strength of the binding, which was always overlooked. While the men worked on Bane, the leader took sudden notice to the woman and approached her confidently. "And the lovely Ms. Danvers. So surprising to see you out of a court room! I assumed like Mr. Bane here-." He paused to stretch out his frail arm and aim it at the masked man. "That if you stepped outside of one, you'd perish!" He then lowered it and locked his hands together behind his back. He lessened the distance between his face and hers, giving off a pungent and unusual smell. "Looks like it's a myth then, huh?", he said dully.

The attention was then put back on Bane as the leader fled from Danvers to get in the masked man's face again. "Is that true for you too? Is this all just-." He turned around and waved his hand through the air, carelessly including the men behind him in his conversation. "Theatricality and deception? Isn't that what you folks call it?" The man's choice of words were confusing Bane tremendously. He was connected with the League of Shadows, but in a way that was dishonorable and faulty.

The man in charge then knelt to Bane's level and slowly scanned his face, looking oddly passionate in doing so. "So if I... were to take this off..." He browsed the mechanics of it, struggling to figure out how it worked. "What would happen?" He scrutinized the mask for a little longer, rolling the desire to touch it in the tips of his fingers. His hand then moved upward, approaching the mask cautiously, fighting to hold his anxious and trembling hand still. But before he could connect with it, a noise in the distance woke the man out of his attempt.

He became of aware of what he was doing and quickly took his hand back. He seemed ashamed and shot up to an erect posture. He turned his head in several directions, meeting gazes with the men around him who were waiting patiently for a new command. "Tie her up. She's coming too.", he finally blurted out. The two men then left from behind Bane and executed their orders. Three of the men in black raced over to Bane, pulled him to his knees, and led him into the plane. As soon as everyone was loaded up, the door was shut and take-off was in motion.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

As soon as Bane began trudging forward, she followed suit. She focused on each step, not because she was afraid to lose her footing and fall, but because she needed something emotionless to occupy her mind. Beads of sweat were beginning to collect at her neckline. All traces of the storm was gone, leaving Danvers exposed to the harsh sun that beat down upon them.

When his heavyset footsteps stopped beside her, Danvers halted abruptly, a few feet ahead of him. She pivoted slightly, moving to get at better look at whatever had occupied him. He had turned, his head facing upward. Every move that had been made by Bane had been unexpected by her, as she assumed his next would be. Her head turned, eyes remained on him until the last second when they finally broke to look at the sky. Above them, a plane glided through the insignificant wisps of clouds.

There was a small, diffident part of Danvers that wanted to jump up and down, waving her arms to get the plane's attention. It was unmarked, telling her that it was probably a privately owned airline or a commercial transport aircraft. Neither of the two were beneficial to her; the chances that they would interrupt their flight patterns to pick up a stranded woman were next to none. As soon as that thought passed through, Danvers admitted to not wanting to leave. Not only had she made a promise to Bane as his attorney, she had endured everything he had thrown at her already. Michelle Danvers wasn't someone to give up strength and abandon something. This scenario was no exception.

Deflated, her head dropped. She was met by the two men, now with their pistols aimed at her. She had experienced the startling sensation of staring into the mouth of a firearm before and if she didn't handle the situation herself, the court officials handled it for her. City criminals were decidedly more predictable than these guys - and that made the situation critical. Steadily, Danvers raised her hands, exposing her palms to the two men. She took a step back, closing in the distance between her and Bane.

The lump in her throat descended as she swallowed, forcing a sense of awareness on herself. 'Don't talk, don't resist. Just act in accordance to what they want,' she thought, repeating the suggestions she'd heard over the years.

There was a silent exchange between Bane and the men and it ended with Bane continuing forward. Jaw clenched, she turned her head and her stride fell into step with his. This woman, the one that was now walking stiffly through an unknown desert, falsely governed by two criminals, was the woman that most of Gotham knew. Her tried and true motto again proved to be the safest state of mind; No emotion, just execution.

An aircraft had landed and was vomiting out a line of darkly dressed men. They stopped once they reached the clearing. "When I heard the news of Talia's fate, I thought for sure you had joined her." Though her head didn't move much when the man spoke, her eyes darted to Bane, surveying his reaction. The mention of Talia did not affect him quite as severely as before, though he was brought to the ground by the two allies recently turned enemies.

"And the lovely Ms. Danvers. So surprising to see you out of a court room! I assumed like Mr. Bane here-"

She squinted and pinched her brows together. There were few voices in Gotham City that held such a striking resemblance to this one. She had heard it many times; at least, she thought she had. Unfortunately for her, every encounter she recalled with that voice associated was unpleasant.

"...that if you stepped outside of one, you'd perish!"

It was similar to gulping down a mouthful of sour milk. Not only was the taste offensive, but it left a torrid burn on your tongue and throat long after you'd swallowed it. Like his vocal tone, it was rare to find a rancor like the one belonging to this man. No parameters existed when it came to him; he'd insult and degrade anyone he saw fit. Danvers knew, it had happened to her more than once.

"Big accusations from such a pipsqueak, Da-" Her insult was muzzled by her anger. She twisted her head around, scowling at the man who had just seized both wrists and pried them backwards, making it easier for him to bind her. Knuckles were jabbed sharply into her spine, propelling her forward. There was one man on each side, guiding her into the plane.

This was the second time she was put on a plane unwillingly. Throwing her shoulders back and forth, Danvers intentionally made the men look as incompetent as possible. She stepped up onto the carpeted floor of the plane. "Go." In unison, both men shoved her forward by her shoulders. The excessive force caused her stumble forward, but remain on her feet.

"Pick a seat, Michelle."

The man had already reclined in the bulkhead seats, complete with a glimmering scotch glass and an open laptop. The entire aircraft was moderately palatial, only confirming to the attorney that it was indeed privately owned and probably his. She straightened out her back and turned her nose up as she breezed past him, refusing to give him any more time than was completely requisite.

She collapsed into an aisle seat, two rows back. Annoyed that her hands were still tied, the woman fidgeted for a few seconds. She had gripped a handful of the jacket's fabric in her fist when they had tied her hands, assuring herself that it wouldn't be left to the desert. Awkwardly angled, she now threw the garment onto the seat next to her. When Bane's mountainous frame filled the small archway, her restless motions stopped. She lifted, poking her head over the top of the seat in front of her to get a better view. After a few seconds of observation, she dropped back down, bouncing on the celadon-colored cushion.

"As his attorney, I require that he sits near me." She jerked over the armrest, glaring pointedly at John. "He sits by me or I'll crush your testicles for a second time. Do you understand me?"

"You're still an overrated bitch, I see." Raising an unconcerned brow, he motioned with two fingers to give his approval to her request. The trio of men nodded and continued directing Bane down the aisles. Once Danvers was satisfied that her demand would be fulfilled, her head snapped back in his direction.

"And you're still an impetuous idiot who over compensates for everything in his life. Some things never change."

**_POV: BANE_**

Keeping his head low, Bane made his way down the plane's center aisle. Although still being guided by the three men in black, his size in reality was tugging them along. He was surprised that the attorney's demands were met, now having a sinking feeling who was behind the mask. Being put next to Danvers, Bane fell stiffly down into the seat and sat hunched forward, giving space to his tied hands behind his back.

The plane's engines then came to life, filling up the cabin with a loud hum. A few minutes later, they were in motion and lifting away from the ground. Silence between everyone lingered until the aircraft had finally reached its desired altitude. Suddenly, the men began stirring, especially the main man, who removed himself from his seat to reassign himself to the one directly in front of Bane.

He sat with his legs crossed, Scotch held high in one hand and the other draped over the chair's arm. His eyes were dead set on Bane and remained that way for quite some time, stretching the limits of comfort. He eventually spoke when he had his sight's fill. "You know...", he began. "You really should have killed me when you had the chance. I mean..." He stopped to sip his drink, which didn't entirely make it into his mouth, staining the cloth which started to bleed.

A sensation then disrupted his previous line of thought. "Ah, still stings..." His empty hand then unexpectedly jumped up and pointed at Bane. "But nothing like I felt with you!" He exclaimed, relaxing seconds later. "But anyway... Like I was saying... You should have just finished me off. Instead of... disfiguring me as you did." He tapped at the cloth where his temple would be located. Bane's head then rose, his suspicions being verified by what the man was saying. His face gained a hint of pleasure.

"Ah, yes!", Bane said delighted. "I was wondering when you'd decide to seek your vengeance upon me, Mr. Daggett." Immediately after digesting what Bane had just said, the man sat back disagreeably. "Vengeance? No, no. I've brought you here to _thank_ _you_. What you did to me was _so_... _Liberating_. And Isn't- Isn't that what you sought out to do? Well... Congratulations! At least you hit your mark with me!" He raised his glass. "A toast?" He sipped again, more liquid dribbling and adding to the past stain.

The man then began shaking his head apologetically. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners? You can't drink! ... Or eat, or do anything orally that a normal human does, can you... What a shame, really. _Such a good year_." He rotated the glass in his hand, admiring the liquid inside. "Oh, but I'm getting off topic here..." He then uncrossed his legs and recrossed them the opposite way. "I see why you wear it." He weakly threw a finger up at Bane's face, gesturing with his head also. "The power it gives you. Why didn't I think of it before?"

A sudden jerk in the plane brought silence back to the cabin. When it had stabilized, the man rolled his eyes and carefully dropped his Scotch glass down into the cup holder. The ice clinked and swirled, catching Bane's attention. "Oh and by the way ... It isn't Daggett anymore..." He then stuck his thumbs up underneath the cloth mask and wiggled them in until they were completely wedged inside. The surrounding men fought back to keep their attention on their prisoners, but the sight that was about to be revealed was too entirely tempting to ignore.

The man then pulled the mask up and over, exposing the gruesome secret beneath it. A black charred, bald, and skeletal face was now staring back at Bane. "It's Black Mask now.", he said in a sinister tone. The mercenary widened his eyes momentarily and then returned them back to their relaxed state. Black Mask then sat proudly back after tossing the cloth he hid behind to the seat next to him. "Like it? It's permanent. And my very own creation!" He turned to Danvers. "What about you, Attorney? Let's hear what the bitch has to say, huh? I know its been tough keeping that pretty mouth of yours shut for more than a few minutes."

Not liking what he just had heard, Bane snarled beneath his mask and narrowed his eyes. His shoulders firmed up, feeling almost like concrete. Black Mask noticed the change in the corner of his eye and turned his head slowly. He leaned into Bane and looked him up and down suspiciously, taking his time doing so. And then it hit him. "Oh... Oh, Wait a minute! ... Are you... Are you two..." He wagged a finger between Bane and Danvers.


	12. Going Home

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_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

Sitting stiffly in the small airplane seat, Danvers played the role of the observer. She was collecting information, establishing opinions to the best of her ability. Daggett and Bane had known each other, that was something that had been revealed in the weeks of Gotham's cleanup process. Daggett had funded most of Bane's operations, and in return, Bane had broken his neck. That had been the general consensus amongst Gotham City Police Department. After all, his body had been found in a dumpster.

She shifted in her seat, wriggling against the restraints. Over the years, Daggett and Danvers had developed an acute hatred for each other and everything the other did. With remnants of the encounters stinging her tongue, it was becoming even harder to keep quiet as he continued his monologue. Her interest changed when two skinny thumbs pried underneath the fabric, peeling the mask off like a bandage.

The face that had been exposed was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She had toured police reports of bloody faces, dead children, torn mouths and ruptured stomachs. Still, all the victims of Gotham's acts of immorality couldn't compare. The skin was charred and dry. His beady eyes stuck out like headlights and the white teeth painfully contrasted against the blackened skin. Her eyes snapped shut, abdomen pulling in to avoid the nausea. She hadn't eaten much, but whatever contents remained in her stomach threatened to come out now. Danvers muttered a cry of disgust as her fingers twitched towards the air sickness bag in the front pocket.

"I hope you choke on your own saliva," she hissed, once she had pacified her revolt. Amidst her anger, Danvers hadn't noticed the physical change in Bane's attitude. A guttural noise filled the small space between them, loud enough that she heard it over the murmur of the jet's engines. Her eyes searched the side of his face, sweeping over every crevice of the mask. With hopes of getting him to look at her, Danvers continued staring. Daggett's haughty insult had failed in wounding the attorney. Compared to the things he had called her before, 'bitch' seemed almost childish.

One vertebrae at a time, her spine straightened in a solid line. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled, uncomfortable with the feeling that the question had created. Skin tightened over her knuckles again, turning her hands white with the pressure.

She cleared her throat, gradually turning her head away from Bane. Like a weighted rod, Black Mask's finger still oscillated back and forth between them. In most situations, she knew exactly how to deliver the appropriate response in every situation. In the course of two days, Danvers had been accused of having a proposed intimacy with Bane. First the nurse, and now by one of the most romantically void men in the world. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. Bane hadn't spoken up yet and the silence was humiliating.

"Are we what? I don't know what you're implying, you rat, but I'm his appointed attorney and I was going to defend him in his upcoming trial. Unfortunately for me, he had other plans." She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. "I'm going to assume running into you... wasn't one of them."

_**POV: BANE**_

Daggett waited, as if trailing closely behind Danvers' words would be an echo of the truth. But when nothing came, he shifted his eyes onto Bane, who was steadily keeping his head down. Almost seductively, Daggett touched his erect finger to the chin of his mask and lifted it up. "You're in this conversation too, big guy. And since you don't have a degree in lying, I'm shoving you up to bat." Even though the plane was encountering turbulence, tousling them around a bit, Bane was having no trouble penetrating Daggett's eyes with concentrated anger.

Eventually, it got too much for Daggett to handle and he disconnected his finger, as if Bane's mask was suddenly extremely hot to the touch. His hand recoiled and made a home inside his jacket, where he began fondling something. "Well, let's try something then, hm?" Seconds later, Daggett slowly slid out a pistol, which dragged along the jacket's lapel like a tongue. He pointed it at Danvers' forehead and then slowly turned his head to Bane.

"Surely, this will get you talking." Daggett's eyes were floating in bliss, knowing he'd finally found a weakness in this supposed monster. He impatiently scanned his face time and time again, waiting any second now for Bane to snap. But to his dismay, the masked man kept his composure and simply dropped his eyes. "I need Ms. Danvers alive, Mr. Daggett." His chest rose as he took a large breath in, seeming agitated that he needed to continue with what else he was going to say. His eyes found Daggett's again and looked into them saddened. "Keep your business with me."

The two of them kept their eyes on each other, uninterrupted for almost a minute. The longer Daggett stared, the more frustration there was building inside of him. "I told _you_... It's Black MASK!" The barrel of his gun then left from the sight of Danvers and replaced itself at Bane's temple. "What is wrong with _you_? _HUH? WHAT_.. the _HELL_... _MADE _you this _WAY_?!" The gun pressed deeper into his temple, the skin around it puffing up. He remained silent, not phased by any of Daggett's threats. "_WHO_! ARE! _YOU_!"

The absence of sound was escalating Daggett's temper through the roof, causing him to rip the gun away from Bane as he thrashed around in his chair. After a moment, he calmed himself down and rested his head on two fingers. "Well, Bane. That's just fine." He paused and tapped where his hairline once was. "And I'll tell you why." Once the gun went back inside the coat, his hands came together between his knees. Leaning forward and looking directly at Bane, he smiled through the black char on his face. "Because it's not only _me_ who has the beef with you... It's your entire _League_. You failed them. And now you must accept the consequences."

Daggett then proudly sat back and crossed his legs. "Fortune will prevail, my friend!" He chuckled lowly to himself. "Now, don't you wish you had learned from my example?" He sipped from his heavily perspiring glass, peering over the top at him. Bane was becoming bored with Daggett's show, wanting already for the action to begin. He ignored, yet again, his question and turned his gaze to the window. He watched the outside territory moving by, spotting very familiar grounds. "Where are you taking me?"

Overly excited to answer, Daggett quickly swallowed down his Scotch, just about choking on it in the process, and set the glass down. "Oh! Yes. _Home_. I'm taking you _home_, Bane." He traced the rim of the glass with his finger as he stared mischievously at the masked man. "Back where you _belong_." His voice was airy and barely carried over to Bane, who brought his eyes back to Daggett's. The look he gave him was crushing as he understood exactly where he was going.

_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

There was a trifling portion of the attorney that had not placed an ounce of trust in Bane, and unfortunately, that was the part that gained sway of the emotions. If he didn't talk, there was a high likelihood that Daggett would lose his temper and scatter her across the plane. Danvers exhaled shallowly and dropped her eyelids shut. Her body remained rigid, almost to the point of physical pain.

Admitting that she found some solace in the fact that Daggett would be ripped limb from limb if he attempted such a gesture, her lids flicked open. The pistol was no longer pointed at her. Instead, it was now pressed into Bane's temple, accompanied by the unevenly pitched volumes of Daggett's voice. Bane looked as if a small insect had passed him and Danvers, gripping the arm of the seat to rotate herself towards him, marveled at his self-control. There was something else that captured her attention in that moment, too. When Bane lifted his eyes, there was a magnetic pull to the curvature of his eyebrows and the way his forehead creased. Something was strangely familiar, redolent of an emotion that she couldn't quite pinpoint. An uneven patch of air jostled the woman out of her recognition process, and instead, coaxed her to hold the news accountable.

Upon hearing Bane's question, Danvers wrenched the armrests up and threw her body towards the window like an eager child. Her forehead pressed against the thick plastic, staring hard below her. When she boarded the plane, Danvers hadn't put it past Daggett to take them back to Gotham, and have them both thrown in jail, or publicly stoned.

The scenery that she found quashed that idea; replacing it with something completely novel. There was only shades of brown amongst the dirt and rocks below her. There was considerably less vegetation in their new destination than the antecedent one. The barren land looked as if rain hadn't touched it in years. Every skeleton had been scorched by the sun, succulent leaves desiccated long ago.

Without the security of a seat belt, Danvers tumbled forward into the frontward seats when the jet began its descent. With a muffled 'oomph', she regained her steady position atop the cushion, throwing her eyes harshly to the man next to her. Daggett went on about Bane's lack of coup with some League, and how the time had come to pay his dues. This, amongst every other aspect of her day, baffled the attorney to point of austere frustration. She creased her brows. Danvers knew as much about Bane's origins as the civilians did; nothing. Where he came from, where he was raised or brought up in was a mystery to her. Now, with her eyes cruelly expectant, she demanded an explanation.

"Bane..." she hissed.


	13. Descent

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_**POV: BANE**_

"And apparently..." Daggett looked pleased and about to burst if he didn't speedily get out what he was going to say. "It isn't your prison anymore." The words pierced into Bane, waking him up like someone had unexpectedly placed an icy hand on the back of his neck. His eyes passed themselves around to the men in black, who were looking back at him like statues that had just come to life.

Their gazes no longer felt foreign as he established a connection. Each of the men then began removing the coverings from their faces, revealing their identities. The death of Talia, the reunited past with Danvers, and now this - it was almost all too much to bear. A particular face stood out amongst them and drew him in, one which he eased his heavy concentration on.

The stare was returned, only with weaker intensity. "Hello, Bane." The familiarity of the voice, which he thought he'd never hear again, awoke strange sensations within him. His hands tightened, cracking and creaking as joints popped and skin was stretched and pulled. "Barsad.", he said, struggling to speak over the sound of his blood boiling inside him.

Daggett had found him, barely alive, and had nursed him back to health. He understood how important having a piece like him in the game would be and did everything in his power to keep him. At first, Daggett felt it strange that he would so willingly choose his side over his longtime companion and mercenary - but people do change, he figured, and there wasn't enough time to doubt, pick, and pry.

Feeling that the spotlight had been on Bane for long enough now, Daggett interjected his gangling body between them. "I told you, Bane. Didn't I?" Without warning, Daggett shot towards Bane, pouncing on him and grabbing his head into his bony hands. "For a price, you can own ANYTHING." He shook the masked man's head in small spurts as he spoke, wanting desperately for his words to rattle and touch every nook and cranny inside his large skull.

Surprisingly, Bane allowed this, letting the muscles in his neck go limp so not to strain anything while Daggett had his moment. "And that goes for _everyone_ BUT _you_. Why can't you see that?! No one cares for natural, unadulterated power! That's history and it died with every empire before _us_. Power over the dollar, _Bane_. That's the number one item on everyone's Christmas list! Not this dumb idea to turn Gotham on its head."

Daggett swung his hand out, reminding Bane of the company behind him. "They sure as shit don't want that. They've come to _me_, because they want something _MORE_." Suddenly, his mood quieted and his arm relaxed. His touch turned tender and caressed Bane's bald cranium. "And it took _ME_ to expose the truth of your supposed loyal comrades." Daggett immediately reevaluated what he said and corrected himself.

"No, no. Not me." He removed one of his hands to retrieve something from his pocket. A 100 dollar bill was then flashed between them, presented like a well executed magic trick. "It took THIS." Bane's eyes swept over the money, disgusted and unimpressed. He couldn't stomach it for long and looked away, finding peace in the corner of his eye - Danvers' hands. He remembered, for a split second, the way they felt against his face. He remembered intertwining his digits with hers.

Bane was able to momentarily escape the disaster that was unfolding around him, until Daggett brought him back. Obtrusively, he touched one of Bane's tubes, causing him to jerk back and furrow his brow intensely. "I'll advise you to remove your hand." For a few seconds longer, Daggett's finger remained until he finally felt a chill travel through his spine, alerting him to let go. His eyes then narrowed and bounced back wide again, wondering what was beneath the mask. _Not now_, he convinced himself. _In time_.

Daggett's fingers then tensed into a ball, curling inward like a dying spider. He pulled himself away from Bane. "There's no one like you, Bane." He looked at him with a certain sick and twisted degree of pity. "No one with your vision. No one who works based on idea. No one who works for _free_." The 100 dollar bill was passed back to the man behind him, who quickly stuffed it in his robes. "Or better yet... No one who works _only _to _inspire_."

And again, Daggett felt the need to correct himself. "Well... there is maybe _one_ other. And what a shame..." Something on the ceiling suddenly snatched his attention. "What an absolute EMBARRASSMENT." He dropped down to Bane again, his hands now on his hips. "To be placed in the same category as that _freak_." Daggett took a moment to gallivant through his victory lap, as he watched the invisible blade slice into Bane's side.

It wasn't comfortable what the masked man was presently feeling, mainly because of who was at his side. He quickly turned down the flame that was growing inside him, the time right now not being the correct one to personally deal with Daggett. He'd allow him his shinning moment. The plane then began its descent, which captured Daggett's attention. He turned his head to the window, feeling the shift in the cabin, and grinned wickedly. "Ah! We're here."

Bane's head was ducked for him, Barsad behind him and leading him out of the plane. Feeling the hand of his disloyal soldier on him sent him to an entirely new world of fury. The man owed him his life - and he couldn't believe that after all the time they had spent by each other's side, that this would be his payback. But then, when Daggett's concentration went onto something that clouded him from any of the happenings around him, Barsad closed in to Bane's ear. Though, before speaking, he silently thanked the steps for making him able to reach that high.

"Trust me.", he whispered. "My allegiance still lies with you." Confusion rushed through Bane, momentarily accusing his ears of betraying him. But when he looked at Barsad's face, he recognized an expression he knew far too well. Bane's bitterness towards him melted away and Bane redeemed his proud posture beside him. However, he understood that exposing any hints of treason around Daggett would not be a wise play on his part. He quickly placed back his disgruntled attitude and kept his eyes to the ground, as he followed through with the energy he felt pushed against him from Barsad.

To the left of them was a vehicle that had been patiently waiting for their arrival. The driver got out upon seeing Daggett and walked around the obstacle to greet him. Barsad then took the opportunity to stuff something in Bane's back pocket. "The others have willingly given up their loyalty. A rebellion against you has begun. I remain to be the only soldier left to still stand by your side." He paused to secure the papers in Bane's cargo compartment. "Everything you need to know is on those papers."

Bane's eyes shifted to his and Barsad witnessed something he'd never seen in all the years they've known each other. "Thank you" was not necessary to be spoken, having seen the look in his leader's eyes speaking loudly for him. Barsad nodded subtly, acknowledging his gratitude, and then went quiet as he re-assumed his position as Daggett's henchman. Words were exchanged between Daggett and the other men, shoving them into action to take the hostages to the vehicle.

Danvers was placed inside first, and then Bane, and then the remaining men. Daggett assumed his spot in the passenger's seat and gestured with a flick of his wrist to get the SUV into motion. The man at the wheel, Bane soon realized, was merely being paid for this job and this job only. His life following the completion of getting them from point A to point B would continue to carry on in his village, having no idea what he participated in. The only thing that he cared for being given a fortune that would feed his entire family for the rest of his life. Or so he placed too much faith in Daggett for that to be the reality. For the man's sake, Bane's roots surfacing again, he hoped it was in favor of the man.

About 45 minutes later, the SUV pulled up to its destination. A 20 minute walk later would arrive them at where Daggett had promised to take Bane. As the group led Bane and Danvers up to a circular stone wall, Daggett rushed ahead of them all, stopped and turned, and opened his arms wide. "And here we are, Bane! Home sweet Home!" His presentation was sickening, Bane thought, and if it wasn't for his self control, he would have snapped his neck right then and there.

Barsad still kept at Bane's side, a lose grip held onto his bicep. A wave of sympathy passed though him, knowing Danvers was not sharing the same relief as he, still having a stranger as her captor. But as they were lined up, he expected that the weight of her fear would be somewhat shaved off.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

For most of her life, Michelle Danvers thrived on information. Discovering it, receiving it, and using it to handle any situation put in front of her. When it was given, she could take the logical route, the safe route, and analyze the circumstances before taking any action. Over the course of two days, information was a thing seldom given to her. Only by observing did the attorney gather facts to base her opinions and emotions off of, and even then... incertitude blighted all her feelings.

Danvers watched the interaction between Bane and Daggett with narrowed eyes. His affinity with high-priced women had always seemed erroneous to her, in and out of the courtroom. As she studied all of his insignificant reactions to Bane, she confirmed what she had always postulated silently. The next man that Bane showed any recognition for was one of Daggett's men. She did not recognize the face nor the name that Bane ushered, and that only irritated her further.

No answers were given by the time they landed or during the duration of the vehicle ride. While she admitted that the advanced feeling of wheels underneath her was mildly comforting compared to the unsettling plane rides she'd experienced, Danvers knew that the destination would not be as appealing. When it ended, they were pulled from the car like animals being sent to a slaughterhouse. Though she resented the idea of walking, she knew that putting up a fight would have more detrimental than heroic. She kept her head down, never being so bold as to offer her voice to the men.

The only word that she could find to describe the atrocity she was now gazing down into was hell. Nothing good could come out of a place like that and only wicked things could be put into it. She should not be here, and yet... there she was. Hands wrapped around her, a rope slithering out of their fingers like a spider's silk. It was tied tightly around her, knotted in a way that she couldn't figure out. Gravel crunched as the man backed away from her, having completed the necessary task.

"_Oh, and by the way_... Michelle... about our business _argument_?"

As if someone had unscrewed the hinges of her skull, her jaw flung to the right, tongue pressing hard into the back molars. Her eyes were deep, overflowing with unarticulated anger. She heaved all of the air in her lungs out, huffing like an enraged cat. Knowing that she would send a knee into the man's groin if she turned to face him immediately, Danvers paused, staring incandescently up at the sky. After a few heavy breaths, she finally pivoted on her heels, mouth open to spew out words that had never been appropriate in a courtroom.

She leaned forward, forearm upright to allow her finger to jab harshly into his blackened throat. "I'd never consider a part -"

Her lower abdomen caught fire in an instant. The numb burn ripped through her skin, clawing and scratching. Her arm went flaccid, slapping heavily against her side. Gravity left and she pitched forward, collapsing onto Daggett's expensive suit. While they had remained fixated on his before, her eyes now stared, paralytically off to the side of him. Void of sympathy, he curled his arm around her, patting her back. His face contorted as he urged his shoulder into her, twisting the woman's flesh. The agony that had exploded across her torso escalated with the rotation of Daggett's blade. The front of her was wet and tepid now, the warmth percolating down her stomach and legs. A thready whine peeled itself up and out of her throat.

Charred lips pressed into the velvety soft lobe of her ear. Though too quiet for the rest of the surrounding people to hear, Daggett whispered something that made the powerless woman twitch against him. Weakly, she lifted her hand to her middle. Through the thick fibers of the suit, which was now saturated, the blood continued to seep. It flooded between her fingers, threading through all the miniscule lines of her palm. Horrified with the sight of her blood, she again dropped her hand, letting it swing back and forth, little droplets of blood gathering at the tips of her middle finger.

"Get off of me." Daggett gave her a firm push, blade slipping out as she stumbled backwards. Her feet were useless, buzzing with the blood loss. She stumbled backwards, grasping helplessly at her stomach, frantically trying to recall the medical procedures that were appropriate for a situation. She fell back against, Bane, crashing into the sturdiness of his arm.

"I'll keep Gotham warm for you."

Dewdrops dotted her face, lips paling. Her eyes scoured his, searching for something, anything to hold onto. Behind all the ebony and flaking flesh, she found nothing. His grinning sadism was all that met her. Whining and groaning as she did so, Danvers used Bane's upper arm as leverage, pushing herself off of him.

"You... you'll..."

Unbeknownst to her, the wobbly steps she had taken had brought her closer to the opening of the trench. With the anger forcing too much physical exertion, her knees buckled and she toppled backwards. The rope whistled as it ground against the rock walls, following the heavy weight it had just been given. She didn't scream, she didn't try to grab onto anything to prevent her fall. Whether or not it was because she was too feeble to do so or if she knew that it'd be futile, she couldn't find an answer.

"Limp," she said. "L-limp, go limp." The words weren't higher than a whisper, but as she felt the first tug of the rope meeting its tension, Danvers released every muscle in her body. She hung like a doll made out of cloth as the rope brought her against the wall; once hard, then twice again, bouncing softer.

She hadn't braced for impact, and that had saved her a great deal of injury. After a few seconds of hanging loosely, her eyelids peeled back, systems attempting a reboot. Only then did she cry out; the discomfort that the rope was causing as it scraped against her laceration was too severe to endure silently. Despite that, the pressure that the rope was applying had stopped the hemorrhaging, at least for that moment.

She was still hanging, but the tips of her shoes touched the stone floor. She had fallen, all the way down, with no one thinking to stop the rapid descent. Why would they? Some were approaching her, crowding along the circular pathways that the structure provided. She winced, forcing her body against the wall as she watched them.

**_POV: BANE_**

Confused by the exchange of physical and verbal activity, Bane repeatedly stole glances of Daggett's and Danvers' quarrel. The frustration he felt not being able to come to her aid percolated inside his body and traveled through to Barsad, who turned his head curiously up at Bane. He read his leader's eyes without difficulty, being that they were the only thing on his face that possessed the power to convey emotion. They were like an entirely new language and one he was now well rehearsed in.

Barsad saw flickers of something he only witnessed when Talia was present. His grip slowly loosened on him, unknown to him as he slipped into a startling conclusion; this woman was of importance to Bane. When his fingertips were the last thing holding a connection to his friend, Barsad finally snapped awake and replaced his hand firmly back onto his bicep.

There was a strange happening, Barsad realized, between the woman and Bane. Talia was the only one - the only one before... Barsad's mind then frantically raced. But before he could place any pieces of the puzzle together, Bane knocked into him. A force from the other side of the masked man caused the sudden disruption, which Barsad immediately poked his head around to see.

The woman, now wounded, was staggering about and not looking well. Bane was panting inside his mask, his eyes wide with worry, not caring an ounce if his reaction was exposed to Daggett. Barsad's hand tightened, watching as the woman stumbled across the sand, tripping into the stone wall. Upon feeling the increase of pressure on his arm, Bane turned, surprised to see his friend's concern. He looked at him, eyebrows struggling to touch at the center.

Barsad peeled his concentration away to meet Bane, sharing with him a sad understanding that nothing could be done. They were brief with their encounter, and shifted away from each other and back onto Danvers - who was now gone. Panicking, Bane's eyes wildly scanned the area around them, but found nothing. It was until he heard the familiar sound of rope snapping that gave away her position.

Bane waited, dropping his site to his boots, hoping to hear any sign that she was still alive. The creak of the rope, from side to side, was the only thing taunting his ears. Barsad was still holding his breath, unsure of the woman's fate, but more importantly - unsure of his friend's stability. Quickly, he shot another glance over at Bane, seeing that he still appeared to be in shock. He knew something was going on between him and the woman, and had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach that suggested just what it might be.

However, it would be up to Bane to mention it, and he'd leave it at that. Daggett then motioned for him to bring up Bane, wanting to offer him a few words just as he did with the attorney. Barsad put back on his act and walked Bane up to Daggett, who was still riding out his high from what he'd just done to Danvers. As Daggett took two proud, long steps towards Bane, Barsad took a step back, watching intently but out of the way.

After catching his breath, Daggett scanned Bane's eyes and mask, and smirked devilishly. "Aw, don't be disappointed, Bane. You're getting a parting gift, too." Daggett's hand then began nervously twitching, which hesitated to raise - but for the time being, remained down at his hip. He gestured with his head at one of the other men to place Bane in the rope harness. Barsad kept a discreet watch on what was happening, getting suspicious at Daggett's invasive position. He fought to hold himself back, feeling like a territorial dog on a tight leash.

"It could've been different between us." Daggett then lowered to a sharp whisper. "We could've ruled Gotham together. But there's only you to blame for letting it turn out this way." His previous hesitant hand finally found the courage to throw itself into action. It hastily slipped inside of his jacket and pulled out his gun. Using the handle's edge, Daggett smashed one of Bane's tubes, bending and breaking it open.

It sizzled, sounding like air out of a tire, throwing Bane into a bewildered tizzy. Bane's hands lifted to his mask shakily, but stopped at an invisible boundary. _Not again_, he thought. The reconstruction of his mask was faulty due to the doctors and now Daggett had taken full advantage of that. Though perhaps not as bad as when Batman disabled him - but still pain to be felt, nonetheless. He lurched forward as his hands prodded blindly and unsuccessfully at the damage.

Barsad, at first, watched in horror and then looked away, unable to witness the trauma unfolding. But it wasn't enough to distance himself from the situation, still being able to hear the pitiful moans escaping from his leader's mask. He would never be able to forgive himself for allowing any of this to happen. Daggett didn't once remove his eyes, over joyed at the sight only inches away from him. He even clapped a couple times, treating Bane's devastation like a sideshow. Eventually, Daggett was able to calm himself enough to speak in a normal tone. "Goodbye, Bane.", he said, mocking remorse.

Then without warning, Bane was tackled and pushed over the edge of the wall by Daggett's other men. This was one of the worst tests Barsad had ever been put through. With all of his might, he remained as calm and unaffected as possible, keeping in mind he still had one last mission to fulfill. Bane knew all-too-well how to handle the fall, however with the painkillers dwindling, he'd still feel any level of tweak in his back.

The veins in Bane's red and heated neck bulged out as the rope went taut. A low and slow squeal leaked in his throat as he felt sharp pains pulsing up and down his spine. His eyes bugged out and watered as he stared off, letting his body go limp as the rope swung him from side to side. But suddenly the condition of his body didn't matter as the thought of Danvers made itself aware - even more so painfully.

Bane eased his head over his shoulder, peering down at the prison below. He instantly spotted her swaying body, but didn't like that the energy in the rope was the only cause of her movement. He moaned lowly again and reached upward to grab his rope. He then lifted his feet, sending the majority of weight into his upper body in order to get a better look of her. Even though the shift was causing even more discomfort, the sacrifice was worth it for Danvers.

Bane desperately wanted to call out, but resisted the urge to. He left the chance of their connection up to her, hoping she would lift her head to see him. But that all changed when the image of her started to grow - along with his pain. He soon realized he was being lowered down, taking a glance upward at the hole's mouth, which was getting smaller with every inch he further gained into the Pit.


	14. Protect You

_****_**Replies: **_batmanbane: You're becoming quite the reviewer! We like! Yes, Bane's overall attitude is changing - he realized just who Danvers is before she did. Don't fret, his intimidation will return._

_PixieElea: Aw, thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it.  
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_goldspleen: Your reviews are absolutely lovely and flattering! Thank you! No, Barsad couldn't leave Bane's side. He's been loyal to him for a very long time. Thank you so, so much for your attention and interest to this story!  
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_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

Combined with the panic of the fall and the resulting injuries, the woman's body remained limp, allowing the rope to swing back and forth, fibers creaking against each other as they did so. Shallow breaths escaped from her open mouth. Her eyes watered, fat drops of salty water collected on the pad of her bottom lip before dropping. Whatever events were unfolding above her, they were unknown. Everything was distorted into an odd echo that made it nearly impossible to distinguish. She had not enough energy to lift her head or call out to the men above her... and even if she had, what would've it done?

Danvers sniffed and forced her eyes open. If death wanted her, it would've taken her by that point. Despite whatever pain she was experiencing, now was not her time to give up. Building what emotional strength she had left, the swaying of the rope changed as she regained control of her mind and body.

She hissed in a sharp breath through her teeth, wincing at the ache. She had broken a rib during the fall. Danvers had broken a rib once before and that was the only reason her mental state was leveling out to something less frantic. Swallowing hard, she lifted her arms, bringing them to her torso. Delicately, trying to avoid the sway of the rope causing any further discomfort, she prodded the right side of her ribcage. The pain didn't make itself apparent until the pads of her fingers reached the very bottom; the tiniest rib. As if someone had slapped her, Danvers withdrew her hand quickly. An internal monologue began, reminding her that there was not much that could be done for a broken rib. The thoughts disintegrated when the light above her changed.

Much like it had in the jail cell, his breathing betrayed him, alerting her of his presence. There was something else that was similar to their meeting in the jail cell; his breathing was uneven again, and louder. The shadows thwarted any visuals, so Danvers ignored it for the time being. Having the luxury of someone lowering him down, Bane's descent was much slower than hers.

"Bane," she coughed, having woken her voice from the small hiatus of silence and heavy breathing. She lifted her chin and allowed her neck to follow until she located Bane above her. His eyes were open and laden with emotions, ones that seemed altogether atypical for a man of his stature. Danvers pulled her eyebrows together, and nodded to him slowly, hoping to convey that Daggett's intentions of severely disabling her had been in vain; she was okay.

The muscles of her upper body worked hard as she gripped the rope from behind, wiggling the knot out. Within a few seconds, the rope loosened its grip on her and slid over her head, dropping her to the ground with a thud. Danvers fell to her knees, then onto the palms of her hands. A small whine fell out of her mouth, as if someone had been inside her throat, desperately clinging to it. Gingerly, she took a few deep breaths, testing the boundaries the pain had given her. Using the cool metal railing that circled the center of the hole, Danvers curled her body up, one vertebrae at a time until she had slowly straightened to a standing position. Or, as good of one as she could manage.

The palm of her right hand applied itself to the wound. The other hand behind her, supporting herself on the railing, Danvers watched as Bane dropped down, inch by inch. A portion of his mask jutted out at an awkward angle, and Danvers squinted to get a better look. The closer he came to her, the more she crouched forward.

"No," she exhaled. "No, not again." Bane's arrival confirmed what she had feared; the metal of the tube had indeed split. Little relief was felt from the idea that when she had found him, his mask had been in a much worse state. Superficially, she was disappointed that she had gone to all that work to allow medical attention to be given to him and it had almost completely gone to waste. Squandered time was not her main concern though - there, the feeling that she couldn't understand, couldn't find an appropriate origin for, the feeling that left her in an agita... it had come back.

"I'm fine," she said. "Just... let me help you," she sucked in a breath. "Again."

**_POV: BANE_**

After touching down heavily, Bane struggled to his knees and frowned. He reached out for Danvers and finally grabbed her, pulling her close. "This prison is no longer mine.", he warned her. His hand then swept cautiously over her frame, finding the wound she acquired earlier. Once his palm was over it, he pressed down. "Apply pressure." He sucked in a shaky breath and looked up at her with large eyes. "Stay near me. This is no place for you."

In the corner of his eye Bane spotted a pile of rags, laid there most likely by a prisoner who'd been swallowed up by the Pit's despair. Not removing his hand from Danvers, he leaned over to snatch a wandering string and drag the pile between his knees. He let go of the attorney and hastily began ripping apart shreds of the robes. Periodically, his eyes would raise apprehensively to the prisoners who were waking up from their dreary and mad states to realize fresh meat had been lowered to them.

Bane's hands were trembling for the first time in many, many years. His breath was uneven and given away as it echoed in his mask for all to hear. Once he'd finally been able to get a sufficient strip separated, he quickly wrapped it tightly around her midsection. When he finished, he took her hand and placed it over the area that was slowly turning red. "Keep your hand there.", he instructed, looking up at her with compassion. His touch was gentle, yet strong and remained for a time longer than what was necessary.

Rising to his feet, Bane took one more glance around them and then returned his gaze to Danvers, pausing there. Unexpectedly, he lowered his head to her, as if going in for a kiss, and positioned the break in his tube in front of her mouth. "Breathe in. It will help to numb the pain." He stayed still as she did what he insisted. But when he noticed that the distance between them and the growing mob was lessening, he pulled away and lifted her into his arms. "The prisoners are hungry.", he warned her again. "But do not fear. I will protect you."

Holding her frame tightly against him, Bane cradled the back of her head with his hand and created a barricade around her with his arms. For a second, he closed his eyes, being painfully reminded of his past as it was being relentlessly picked at. He took a deep breath in and held back the weighted emotion a little while longer. The prisoners were inching in, closer and closer, causing him to leap into action.

Bane rushed them towards the gated cell, closing the door behind them and securing it. The same cot he had laid Bruce on, and many others before him, still remained. He carefully set Danvers down on top of it, lining up her legs and arms in a way that he assumed would be comforting to her. He then stood back, allowing her to adjust as she wished. As she did that, he decided then to tend to his damages.

After removing the strips he'd made earlier from his pocket, he began wrapping his face, winding it as tightly as he could so to hold back the leak. It was a poor fix, but a fix nonetheless. When he'd made a thick and tight enough hold, he secured it in the back with a knot. He stopped upon seeing the bandage below in his eyesight, making him feel even more uncomfortably familiar with the Pit.

It was overwhelming, heating him up and causing him to sweat profusely. He felt as though he was suffocating, causing him to make the quick decision to remove his vest. As soon as it was off, he tossed it to the side and slowly began pacing the floor. Sweat trickled down his chest in ribbons, running past to his stomach. His back was peppered in beads, and rose and fell with every breath, which shook sections free and traced the scar that reached from his neck down to his tail bone.

"You've returned...once more." The voice made him stop. He needed not to turn, recognizing the owner immediately; the shadow hid him anyway. "Not by choice.", he replied sullenly. Silence between them lingered, making Bane believe their conversation was meant to be brief. But before he was able to start his pacing back up, the man spoke again. "Was it ever?" The question caused Bane to frown and then seconds later growl as his pacing shot off again, looking like an agitated caged animal.

The prisoners were now surrounding the cage and looking inside. Questions about the woman were being shouted. Obscenities were passed around. More reasons to fuel Bane's fury. But before the anger had a chance to seep too deeply, Bane remembered the note given to him by Barsad. He then stopped and reached behind him to his back pocket, pulling it out. He brought it around and unfolded it at his stomach, his head dropping as far as it could. He read the contents to himself:

DAGGETT SHARES POWER WITH THE LEAGUE.

HE'S MADE THEM BELIEVE YOU'VE BETRAYED THEM.

HE COULD NOT CONVINCE ME.

I WILL COME FOR YOU UPON THE PIT'S AWAKENING.

FOREVER IN YOUR SERVICE,

BARSAD

Bane nodded his head as he pulled away from the letter. While the contents digested, he refolded the paper and replaced it back in his pocket. Ignoring the shouts still taking off outside the cage, Bane turned his head over his shoulder at Danvers. "Our time here will not be long.", he reassured her.


	15. Fix It Again

_**Replies: **batmanbane: Aw, thank you! It's definitely not a traditional romance. She does feel like she has to help him, both for legal reasons and for another reason she can't quite figure out yet. I love reading your reviews - thank you so much!_

_corbsxx: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Thanks for reading/reviewing! _

_arianrhod316: Hah! It will be revealed... in good time. ;) Thanks for reading/reviewing!  
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_wandadoll: The last chapter was a bit shorter, yes. I'm so thrilled to hear all of these reviews! Thank you!  
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_P.S. WOW, GUYS. We/I had no idea that the story would receive this much positive feedback! Words cannot describe how much we both appreciate all of your encouraging reviews! Thank you all a million times over! This chapter is extremely emotional (it was for us anyway). I hope you all enjoy it!  
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_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

In her currently emasculated state, Danvers wasn't as alert as she would've liked to be. Her awareness lagged, causing the surprised reaction when Bane's hand gripped her waist, towing her body towards his with irresistible force. Her chin dropped to her chest, which was heaving unevenly, and just as much as he. Her brows laced together, concern weaved into her expression.

She hissed, throwing her head back. The sound echoed against the brick walls, a wispy cry filling the tower. She had been applying pressure, though Bane's was much firmer. A few seconds passed and her wound adjusted to the sensation, allowing her to lower her head back to him.

"You're right about that," she agreed, throwing a cautious glance to the surrounding cells. Prisoners were known to be the most ravenous for a woman's touch and that was decidedly something she had no intentions of getting caught up in. Men in Gotham were grotesque enough... the thought of these men produced a shudder from the attorney. "You can trust me this time... I'm not planning on putting any distance between you and I. Not here."

Her head followed his arm as it snatched the stray scrap of cloth, bringing it closer towards them. Before she had processed what he intended to do, Danvers' felt a steady constriction on her waist. It supported her, allowing her straighten up more than she had before. The ache disappeared for mere seconds as Danvers watched Bane below her, fingers trailing over her abdomen with such great care. Her cheeks flushed, feeling as though she had something to hide from the intimacy of his hands.

He was a soldier; of war, of passion, of duty, whatever he had his mind set on, he'd fight for it. In this case, it was a counterintuitive sense of chivalry. Despite the issues of his mask, he was concerned with her wound and assuring her survival. At least, that's what he had made her believe.

With the instincts of a prudish schoolgirl, she leaned away, pushing her shoulders backwards. Bane had leaned in, tilted his head only inches above hers. He positioned his mouth - or where his mouth would've been had it not been for the mask - in front of her lips. She narrowed her eyes, staring hard into the grate in front of her. "What-" and then she looked up. His eyes, though soft, burned down into hers. Pale and blue, they were obviously enough to blur the hard, industrial edges of the mask. For a moment, Danvers saw only the small amount of skin that was exposed, and his eyes.

She nodded and took a deep breath in. It was an acrid, medicinal taste and it dried out her tongue. She felt dizzy. The tingling started at her toes, then traveled up until it touched her wound. Whatever painkillers were seeping out of Bane's mask were powerful, because the he ache disintegrated a few levels within seconds.

"Remind me to come to you next time I have a migraine." The attorney's quip went unnoticed, replaced with another advisory on the prisoners. She only had time to pivot her head around, briefly glancing at the men approaching. They were rowdy and interested in who she was. Bane lifted her up against his chest, supporting her there. A large hand wrapped around the back of her skull, urging it to lay against him.

Words that she did not understand were being shouted. She shut her eyes, squeezing them until she felt it in her cheeks. The screech of metal pierced her ears, followed by the heavy clanking of a door shutting. Her eyes opened as soon as she was deposited on the thin mattress. She brought her knees up, parallel with her hips.

His irritation was making her uneasy. It was animalistic, unbridled rage. Inhaling gently, Danvers elapsed her hand in between her closed thighs. Her eyes trailed around the dingy cavity, wondering how many had suffered in the same spot she was laying. That was an easy descent into a depression. As hard as it was, Danvers needed to keep a sunny disposition for as long as she could. His vest skidded next to her, starling her. Gradually, almost bashfully, Danvers drew her eyes up to his exposed chest.

_He's built like a bear or something. My god. He could... oh my god, that scar. _Her jaw was clenched, brows high. She tried to remain as impassive as possible, despite her thoughts progressing rapidly. _I can't imagine the pain he went through... _

Another voice entered their conversation, putting Danvers on alert like a frightened dog. He seemed timid enough, though the exchange between the two of them was bittersweet. She craned her neck up, and the man leaned to the side. They made eye contact, and he bowed his head in an apologetic demeanor. It did not take a genius to figure out that she had not done anything so condemning to be sentenced to this place.

"Our time here will not be long," The variable pitch of Bane's voice was back. The gentility was gone. The attorney was not focusing on that however, frozen stiff in the awkward position.

With the cloths wrapped around the lower portion of his face, Bane nearly blended in with the prisoners. Searing pain shot through her body, and at first, she thought the wound was acting up. More troubling was the true source of the pain; her chest. She trembled from deep within her core. Every muscle in her body was pulled taut. She was withholding something, something that she didn't even want to acknowledge that she was withholding.

Someone had pulled focus on Bane's eyes and the dirty fabric of the cloth. Her bottom jaw jutted out, cheeks hollow and sucked in. Then finally, as if the ropes that had been holding her upright had gone slack, her neck dropped and she rolled back onto the cot.

"Good." It was a sharp reply, eyes fixated on the black ceiling above her. "Good."

**_POV: BANE_**

When night had fallen, Bane sat himself in the corner of the cell, watching the mouth of the pit with keen eyes. They rolled back and forth, checking all edges for any sign of activity. With the moon now in the center, it was time for Barsad to fulfill his promise. A moment later, he spotted something, causing him to rise to his feet. Bane was pleased to see his friend casting a rope over the side to begin a steady descent.

As soon as he touched the bottom, Bane raced to cell's opening, which had cleared away a short while earlier when prisoners fell pray to sleep. Bane unlatched the door and motioned in Barsad, who wasted no time to move himself inside. Once Bane replaced the lock, he approached Barsad, who took the masked into an embrace. "Forgive me, Bane.", he pleaded sincerely.

Responding sympathetically, Bane returned his affection and held him briefly. "Makayen moshkil.", he told him, reassuring him that nothing would be held against him. Seconds later, they broke free from one another and exchanged understanding glances. But it didn't take long until Barsad brought up the problem with Bane's mask. "How bad is it?", he asked - however, in a way that sounded rehearsed, as if done many times before. "Minimal.", Bane replied.

Barsad nodded and made a quick decision to move to an area of the cell that was spacious. He knelt down, looking as though he was readying himself for worship. He then removed his jacket and spread it out like a picnic blanket. Bane saw this and immediately felt a new weight laid upon him as he realized what he was next to do. But before allowing himself to do so, he turned his head to Danvers. His heart began racing, feeling like a virgin undressing in the presence of his lover.

The flow of air was being sucked in through his mask and the cloth around it, heavier with each passing second he looked at her. A moment later, he was able to tear away and place his attention on Barsad, who was lining up tools that he removed from the pockets of his vest. When he set the last one down, he met eyes with Bane. Nothing was needed to be said, the both of them already knowing what now was necessary to be done.

Bane took one last look at Danvers and then breathed in deep, approaching Barsad. He faced his back to the attorney and then reached behind his head. His hands began working to remove his mask, slowly and carefully peeling it away from his skin. Inch by inch, his scalp was revealed. Bane unfortunately knew what lay in waiting seconds from now - the crippling pain that his mask fought so hard to keep back.

Once it was off the back of Bane's head, the rest was next to go. He braced himself, understanding too well how fast the pain would flood his face. He then pulled it completely off, instantly feeling a sharp chill over his skin, followed by heat, and lastly the overwhelming ache. His eyes fluttered as he handed over his mask to Barsad, who immediately snatched it out of his hand and began work on it.

Several times in the past, Barsad had been the one to fix Bane's mask. He knew the functions of it backwards and forwards, giving him the rightful ownership of being Bane's mechanic. He trusted him with every ounce of his being, displaying the depths of his loyalties on many occasions - tonight being one of those main times. He knew he needed to work fast, the state of Bane loudly screaming in the back of his mind. "Besmillah.", he whispered, thick with grief.

Daggett was a dead man walking and Barsad would make him pay for what he'd done. Though he kept his anger at bay for the meantime, knowing that his concentration was required elsewhere and, more importantly, on the mask. Bane remained by Barsad's side only a little longer, until it became too much for him to stand. His stature sunk and swayed as he felt lightheaded, disrupting his movement as he made his way toward the shadows. As soon as his shoulder hit into the wall, he skidded down it and collapsed to the floor.

The scrapes on his arm that were quickly filling up with blood were ignored, barely even feeling the burn of torn skin as it faded into the background against the pain in his face. His breathing was careful, like his nose was made of paper thin glass. Tears rolled down his nose and cheeks, following the lines of his scars. His jaw hung slack, letting his bottom lip protrude and collect the tears at its edge. He wouldn't admit it, but the tears were not only due to the pain in his face - but also because of Danvers.

With the shadows surrounding him, Bane hoped it was enough to keep his face out of sight. He remembered her, but she would not remember him - especially not like this. And he wouldn't allow it either. The past was a different version of him, almost completely dead. But not quite, as fragments of it held on. Whether it was on purpose, he wouldn't be honest with himself. But they were there - stopping him from believing that he was the monster many thought him to be.

Bane then began shaking, his hand twitching and fidgeting which hanged over his bent knee. The other was stuffed in between his arm and side, hugging himself tightly. Tiny moans leaked from his trembling lips. "'awenni. 'awenni. 'awenni.", he mumbled repeatedly to himself. This time wasn't like any other time he'd had his mask fixed. It was worse, being that he was back in the Pit where it all began. He recalled the same pain as he looked down at the same stone below him. The same atmosphere, the same sights - too much familiarity.

Bane's consciousness was next slipping. His world around him was blurring and preparing to play tricks. For a moment, he couldn't remember the time - or it suddenly became unclear to him. His eyes slowly slid to Danvers, but what he was seeing was not her - but a child instead. He shut his eyes a few seconds and then reopened them. Still the same figure remained. He asked himself if he had woken up from a vivid dream. If, in fact, he was still in the pit, never rescued. He didn't care to turn and check if Barsad was still to the right of him. His eyes remained stiffly on the girl.

Suddenly, the state of his face did not matter to him. Struggling to remove his hand from his side that had stuck from the sweat, Bane urged to move closer to her. After finally being able to free his hand, he reached it out and laid it flat upon the ground. With what strength he had, he planted the other firmly down and began pushing himself up.

Once on his feet, he slowly traveled over to Danvers and knelt down beside her. His trembling hand touched her head, smoothing down her hair. "Sleep. I'll keep you safe.", he pushed out quietly over his moistened lips. He was able to pet her head a few times more, until his touch began to fade. His world then started to violently spin and shortly after he blacked out. Bane collapsed beside the cot, though his hand would not disconnect from Danvers.


	16. Dreaming

_Reviews:_ **batmanbane:** Awh, thank you for that comment - I'm glad to see that you're picking up on the little things. Sometimes the best romance is laced with subtleness. ;) **arianrhod316:** Thank you, thank you! Glad you're enjoying it!** ShyGirl: **THANK YOU! There's no need to be shy though, we enjoy reviews!** goldspleen:** Here you go, a brand new chapter! Thanks for reviewing, as always!

**_NOTE:_** This is somewhat of a big reveal to the history between the two. You be getting more insight to what really happened, more frequently. Thanks, guys! Keep reviewing! -T.

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_POV:_**_ MICHELLE DANVERS_**

The hours passed like chilled molasses, one minute drifted into the next but never really ended. The light disappeared from the opening and darkness descended on an already abysmal place. Danvers understood why, as she slipped in and out of consciousness, so many prisoners turned to excessive physical exercise when they were jailed. It was either that, or copious amounts of sleeping, which Danvers felt like she had been doing for ages.

Wrapping her arms around her torso, she flipped over, now facing the wall. Every so often, the attorney would force herself awake and check on Bane. For hours he remained, sitting in the same corner. His breathing was steady and the break in his mask wasn't affecting him as severely as she had initially thought. She wasn't sure what hour of the night it was when Bane got to his feet.

Not rising completely, she twisted her neck around to see who Bane was speaking with. Again, the darkness prevented her from any visuals, and the words being spoken were ones she could not translate. Defeated, Danvers dropped her head to its previous position against the thin pillow. When the footsteps echoed deeper into the cell, she rolled herself over. Still laying down, Danvers watched as the man's jacket was spread out on the ground in front of him. She pulled her brows together, studying the man's face. She recognized him almost instantly, and as if someone had told her that a monster was behind her, breathing down her neck, Danvers stiffly sat upright. Bane turned, looking at her. His eyes were closer to stormy waters than ever before. The emotion swirled like mist amongst the blue.

"Bane, what is he doing here? What are you doing?" When he turned away, her fingers twitched toward him, but dropped back into her lap seconds later. She watched in horror as Bane began pulling apart the mask, and pare it away from his skull. "Oh my god."

"Bane," she whimpered, her head snapping back and forth between him and the man now holding the mask within his hands. "What are you doing? He's in an extreme amount of pain without that - Bane!"

He had crumbled against the wall, and though the darkness hid most of what the mask had hidden before, the small amount of light reflected off the streaks of moisture on his cheeks. _He's crying... Oh god, he's crying._ She whipped her attention back to the kneeling man on the floor.

"What are you DOING to him!? Who the hell do you think you are!? Put it back - put the mask back on!"

Her frantic shouts were enough to bring Bane to his feet. Painstakingly, he rose and made his way over. "No, don't. Don't move, please. Just... god damnit, is he dying!? What are you doing? Are you fixing it? Jesus Christ, you speak... you speak English! Please. Tell me what's ha-happening."

Her words stopped when Bane knelt before her. Without his mask. Closer to a man that she'd ever seen him, though she'd never forgotten. Her lips parted as she tilted her head to meet his gaze.

If she had tried to describe what she thought she'd see, she would've been wrong. In some ways, it was less frightening that she'd imagined. In others, it was enough to make her stomach contents lurch against its lining. His nose had been badly broken, deep scars lined the lower portion of his face. The dim light prevented her from getting a close look, but she wasn't sure that she desired one. Delicately, Gotham City's most ruthless criminal smoothed out her hair, caressing her head in reassurance.

"Sleep, I'll keep you safe."

"I know," she nodded. "I know you will but I'm not tired."

As if the ground had turned to putty beneath him, Bane melted away from her, hitting the floor hard. There was something wrong, and it burned Danvers all the way to her core. She couldn't move her legs, couldn't get off the bed. His fingers were curled around her ankle, having drooped along with his consciousness.

"BANE!" As if he was falling farther away from her, Danvers scrambled for his fingers, gathering them into her own. She tugged at his arm like a child who couldn't comprehend death. Finally, the situation became critical enough that the attorney's muscles unlocked and she rolled off the cot and over Bane.

She remained on top of him, and pressed her fingers hard into his neck. A dull throbbing met her, and Danvers threw her right leg behind her. Taking extra care not to remove her hand from his, she moved into a kneeling position next to him, and placed her free hand on the wide plane of skin just below his collar bone.

"Put it back on... please... please! They fixed it on his face in the hospital, they didn't... please." Her voice was ragged, though tears didn't come. I'm not going to watch this happen again. I can't."

**POV: BANE**

It had been some time since Bane had dreamed so vividly. The colours, smells, and feel of everything around him tricked his mind into believing he'd gone back in time. The warm tints that stained his skin brought his usual ashy tone to life again. Morocco's sun casted off a particular golden glow that made everything look as though it was glazed in honey. No matter how sour things got, it all still appeared sweet.

The unpaved roads peppered with foot prints and animal droppings were alive with tents - abundant with fruit, vegetables, and handmade trinkets, sold by faces that had as much history as the city they lived in. Hungry children and teenagers huddled together in alleyways, exchanging words of that day's survival. But the second they spotted him, they tore their faces away from one another, silence immediately blanketing the group, and began smiling.

"Asim!", a few of them shouted as they started racing towards the man. It was a name given to him by the orphans, meaning "protector". That is how they viewed him; A leader, a friend, a symbol of revolution amongst the oppressed. He was hope - something that the orphans held tightly and desperately onto. As they swarmed him, he raised a hand, shushing them all and hooking their attention. They watched his hand as it lowered and disappeared inside his satchel.

A moment later it lifted out, now holding an apple. The reaction of the group was a simultaneous brightened expression, followed by a cheer. "Bgheet! Bgheet!", they shouted. A boy, second row to the front, was thrown the red fruit, sending a wave of jealousy amongst the rest. But their envy was speedily put down as other fruit items were being passed around. Soon, every hand held fruit and was satisfying hungry bellies.

Asim smiled pleased as he watched each child chew into their food. His sympathy for them ran deep, not having parents just as he - practically living most of his young life in prisons, being thrown in and out of them frequently. It wasn't because he willingly participated in criminal acts, but instead due to his drive to help the children and survive himself. He couldn't bare to watch a child suffer and did everything in his power to make sure that didn't happen.

Separating himself from the group, Asim took out the remaining banana from his bag. As he began to peel it, he headed toward an open spot on the wall and fell back hard against it. He wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings, only to the fruit he was about to reward himself with. At the last peel, a pair of shoes steeped into his vision. He recognized them and acknowledged the man without even looking. "Wasn't enough? I'll give you mine.", he teased, smirking at his banana.

The man chuckled and slapped Asim's arm. "Good to see you, brother! I must admit." He took the spot next to him and rested his shoulder on the wall. "You had me worried." Asim smiled and bit the tip off the banana. "Then you admit you are a fool, Barsad.", he said chewing, and then pushed away from the wall. Barsad quickly followed after as his friend led them onto the streets. The banana was now half gone, another bite filling his cheeks.

Barsad finally caught up. "We established that on the day I agreed to help you, did we not?", he retorted. Asim smirked, using the side of his face that was not visible to his friend. "Yes, perhaps. But you may soon relieve your duty as fool. I won't be here for much longer." Suddenly, Barsad's face dropped. "What? What do you mean?" Asim finished off the last of the fruit and tossed the peel. "I'm leaving. And placing you in charge.", he answered straightforwardly. Barsad's breathing picked up, his eyes frantically searching Asim's face who was calmly keeping forward.

"Leaving where?", he questioned, squeezing his eyebrows together. Asim raised his sight and pointed at a building to the left. "See that window?" Barsad nodded, after tracing the invisible line that led to the target. "Inside there waits an entirely new life for me." He paused to wrap an arm around the man's shoulders, bringing him closer and attempting to relieve him of his stress. He placed his face next to Barsad's, his bottom lip jutting out as he took in a breath for his next words to ride out on. "A woman.", he said lowly as his eyes swept over areas past him.

Barsad instantly frowned upon hearing the reason. "You can't be serious.", he protested, pushing away. Asim's eyebrows raised as he pouted and swallowed. "Oh? Then why am I looking to you for help?", he asked, peaking narrowly at him through the corner of his eye. Barsad turned away defeated and sighed. "Alright. What's your plan then?", he inquired dully, reluctant to hear the answer.

Upon seeing his reaction, Asim sped them up and swerved them into a nearby alleyway. He took his friend's face into his hands and stared him straight in the eyes. "Look at me.", he demanded, his thumbs pressing hard into his temples. "I will not desert you. Do you hear me? I will return." Asim's eyes searched his friend's, back and forth. "That's a promise." He stayed put a bit longer, making sure that what he'd said had soaked through. Barsad swallowed hard and then nodded. "Good man.", he said, rewarding him with a rub on his head. Barsad laughed and pulled away, playfully swatting at him.

Asim then took him around the shoulders again and weaved them back into the crowds, which were considerably thinning out. Instinctively, Asim covered the lower half of his face with his garment. Barsad did just the same, feeling a similar sensation that they were being watched. Not liking the suspicion of invasion into his privacy, Asim bent forward and closed off much of the space between him and Barsad. "When the moon sets between those two buildings, you will meet me here.", he whispered as his eyes dropped to the gap between the two structures.

"The remaining details..." Asim paused, relaxing his jaw and scanning the area. "I will give later." He then squeezed Barsad's arm. "Good-Bye." With no hesitation, Asim left his friend's side and weaved in and out of slow moving strangers. Barsad's face flooded with panic, not once taking his eyes off him. "Asim, wait!", he called out. "ASIM!"

Bane's eyes broke open and searched around him. With his dream still lingering, he was having trouble grasping his current reality. His hand then touched his face, but instead of skin warmed from the Moroccan sun, he felt cold metal - his mask had been put back on. Whatever remaining confusion the dream had left immediately faded, being painfully reminded of what was real again.

Bane then became aware of his breathing, hearing it echo as it mixed with the painkillers. And following that, he remembered his attorney, causing him to jerk his head to the side and search for her. The sound of whispering voices gave away her position, along with Barsad's, who was sitting directly in front of her. Bane lifted his upper half up from the floor and faced them. Barsad noticed the movement in the corner of his eye and stopped in mid-sentence to address him. "Bane.", he said, looking slightly worried. "How are you?"

Resting his eyes on the floor, Bane nodded slowly. His dream had left a bad taste in his mouth, affecting his attitude. Raising his hand mid-way and weakly pointing two fingers between Barsad and Danvers, Bane breathed in as if catching his breath. "Why are you speaking to her?" His hand then dropped and fell heavily beside him. His muscles started to tense, looking like a threatened animal. His eyes still dodged to meet with either of the two. Barsad sensed the change in his mood and moved his body to face him.

"She was frantic. I explained to her what I needed to do in order to fix your mask." Upon hearing Barsad's reasoning, Bane lifted only his eyes, peering out from under the creases in his forehead. "Is that all?", he asked, though not looking for an answer. "Leave her!", he commanded, throwing his hand through the air. Barsad instantly did as he was told and retreated to the opposite side of the cell. The masked man watched as he traveled across the floor, seeing that he placed himself elsewhere. Satisfied with Barsad's execution, Bane slid his eyes over onto Danvers. He then rose up and slowly approached her.

Once beside her, he stopped and stood over her, his thumb and finger rubbing and tapping into one another. His head densely fell into his chest as he looked down at her, then past her. "And how are you fairing, Ms. Danvers?" After browsing the area behind her, he finally brought his gaze back to hers.


	17. Regained Privileges

**Reviews: _batmanbane:_**That is such an immense compliment, wow! Thank you. I'm really glad that pre-TDKR Bane fit for you in this scenario. Honestly though, your entire review was just... it was so thoughtful and deep. THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Things are getting rather tense in this chapter... so we'll see what you gather next! ;)**  
**

**_arianrhod316:_** Thank you! xx

**_Dotty Vintage:_** Here you go - updated! Thanks for reviewing and keep enjoying it!

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**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**

The man continued to tinker with the front portions of the mask, all the while ignoring her desperate pleas for information. With an irksome sense of defeat, she turned her attention away from the nameless man and instead focused everything onto Bane. He had not come to, but the dull throb against the delicate skin of his neck told her that he had not left her. "Come on," she repeated. Accepting the fact that there was nothing she could do, the attorney resorted to encouragement. It would go unrecognized, but she could not sit next to him, idly watching. Droplets of sweat pooled along her neck and descended into the middle concavity of her collar bone. Eventually, they'd drip onto his skin, unnoticed and undetectable amongst his own.

His eyes darted back and forth behind his lids. Pulling her feet underneath and then out, Danvers situated herself so that she was leaning on one thigh, upper body draped over Bane's. Her hands hovered over him as if he was a china doll that had been glued back together, but not yet dried. The tiniest of movements could destroy the structure, and she'd be left with more pieces to pick up. "He's not dead," she affirmed, mostly for her own benefit.

"No... no he isn't."

Her head snapped up like a rubber band, hands frozen on Bane's chest. "And _now_ you talk?"

"You were panicking." He stood up, cradling the mask in his hands like a precious relic. The journey across the span of the cell didn't last long, despite the man's careful and steady stride. Danvers curved her neck, scowling up at him as he approached.

"Yeah," she breathed, annoyed. "I don't know how they do things where you were born, but when someone is panicking... you talk them down."

The man knelt down next to Danvers, inaudibly demanding more room. Reluctantly, she retracted her hand from Bane's chest and scooted a few inches farther. Although she had moved, her eyes were fixated on every movement, no matter how small, the man was making. He slipped his hands under the curvature of Bane's neck, and after giving Danvers a outre` look, he lifted his head up, and propped it atop his knee. He separated the thicker parts of the mask. Once the opening was large enough, he leaned forward, positioning the grate over Bane's mouth and nose. Danvers dropped back onto her rear, rolling off her haunches. All the scarring, all the unimaginable pain was gone in an instant. The stony mercenary was back and something curled up within the depths of her stomach.

After Bane's head was laid back down, the man pivoted his body away from Bane to her. She straightened up, swallowing. Uncomfortable with the silence, she stuck her hand out. "Danvers. Michelle Danvers - I'm sure you heard Daggett say it earlier. Anyways... I'm... sorry about that."

As if someone had just presented him with an amusing line, the man dropped his head, a warm smile taking over his features. He nodded, and at first, Danvers wasn't sure what exactly he was agreeing to. She wasn't given time to consider it however, because his warm hand wrapped around hers. "Barsad," he replied.

She nodded and pulled her hand back into her lap. "So, can you... can you tell me what you did? I'd just feel better knowing."

For a moment, he didn't speak. His eyes were fixated on her, concentrating hard on her own. Danvers swallowed and stiffened, unsure of how to respond to his gaze. The attention made the attorney uneasy, enough that a few seconds later, she dropped her eyes to Bane. It had obviously been enough to provoke his explanation.

"I repaired it," he started. She listened intently to all the bland descriptions he gave her, archiving them for future reference. Although he gave her a general idea of what he had done, Barsad's details were vague - she guessed that he did this on purpose. The more she understood, the better she felt. They had only talked before Bane's hand flew up to his mask, colliding with the grate. Danvers saw the movement before Barsad had, and she leaned to the side, getting a better view. Her lack of ability to ignore the situation alerted Barsad, and he spoke, eliciting a nod from Bane.

"Why are you speaking to her?" Her brows pinched together, confused at the anger in his voice. The conversation continued between them, reeking of privacy and strained concern. Bane's emotion was heavy-weighted and the origin of it perplexed her.

"Leave her!" Danvers jumped, startled. Like a scolded dog, Barsad left her side without another look.

The mask seemed to be functioning properly. Barsad had clearly known what he was doing, and for that, she would've silently thanked him. The weight in her chest disappeared. She heaved a shaky breath as Bane approached her. His stamina had returned as he stood in front of her, refusing to make eye contact.

"How am I faring?" Her lips parted, dry throat pushing out a sarcastic and feeble laugh. She glanced up at Bane, expecting a look of joviality in his eyes. A question like that couldn't be asked seriously, by any normal person who comprehended emotional severity of the situation that had just unfolded. The impassive look remained. Her face fell, along with her eyes. They dropped to Bane's fingers, which were rubbing together in small motion. Inhaling as deep of a breath as she could manage, Danvers watched for a moment or two as she searched for the appropriate answer. _The truth. Tell him the truth. Barsad already told him that you were panicking... he can't expect you to be completely calm._

"I'm a mess," she confessed. "I'm starting to reconsider my definition of stressful situations. That," she paused, scanning up his body until she met his eyes again. "...was one of the most traumatic things I have _ever_ had to witness."

POV: BANE

Hearing Danvers' confession eased Bane's stiffened muscles. He took advantage of the following silence between them and swept his eyes repeatedly over her face. Then as though he chose to ignore what she said, he switched his scenery to Barsad, who was drowning his discomfort in wrinkled papers, covered in handwritten notes. But Danvers' voice was still echoing in his mind, urging him back to her.

When his attention reached her again, Bane looked past her and then finally rested completely on her. "I'd suggest getting used to it.", he advised. "That won't be the last." Ending with that, he began rubbing his hands together, ridding his palms of the collected soil. He approached the bars of the cell and looked through the gap in between them. A sudden outbreak of commotion caught his attention: two men yelling violently at each other.

They threatened physical contact with their balled fists, firing hateful words in each other's direction. A punch was then thrown, taking one of the men down to the ground. Blood gushed from his nose, which he fought to hold delicately. But the pain made it unbearable to touch. Bane's eyes slowly shut and then opened in a different area. His eyes zoomed in on nothing in particular and froze with distress, being reminded of a still tender time. "We must prepare to leave." he said, breaking his own rigid concentration.

Bane then walked towards his vest. Bending over, he picked it up and started dressing himself. Noticing that Bane was occupied, Barsad cautiously peeled himself away from his papers and stared at the masked man. He shared his attention with Danvers. Back and forth his eyes went, until eventually he was caught. Bane was looking directly at him, pausing in between fastening one of his vest's straps. "Barsad," he called calmly. "A word, please." He beckoned him with two fingers.

Barsad put down his papers carefully, a fear somewhere inside his mind that they had the chance to blow away. He got up and stepped confidently up to Bane, knowing that caution would only anger him. "Yes, Bane." he said at attention. Bane's eyes narrowed as he juggled his sight between him and the attorney. They were out of the way enough to keep from ear's reach. Bane's hand then connected with Barsad's cheek, holding it gently with his thumb just below the corner of his eye.

"You continue with this false act around me?" His gaze was deep, and Barsad knew it well, having seen it many times before Bane sent a man to meet his maker. It was the calm before the storm, his touch gentle and hypnotic. Barsad practiced as many breathing exercises he knew in order to keep his heart rate down, knowing Bane would feel his pulse beneath his fingertips. He fought not to nervously spit out his words. "When would I have mentioned it?"

There were times he hated what Bane allowed himself to become. He remembered him so differently. But he understood what the League had done to him - what Talia had done. He despised her, though at the same time owed her plenty for rescuing his friend. He respected her only because of Bane. But with her out of the picture, she wasn't anything he needed to worry about anymore.

However, there was a new threat now unleashed; Bane's instability. There was no telling how the news of her death took its toll on him. And with the woman from his past having returned, along with what was happening with the League, anything was currently possible. The feeling of Bane's hand upon his face was acting like a magnet, pulling out emotion after emotion. At a time before, it was much smaller and when met with his face, did not cause nowhere near the stir up it did now.

Barsad kept eye contact with Bane, not slipping once. The masked man churned Barsad's question around and around, until it was left with nothing else to consider. But before he could answer, a woman's scream interrupted him. He immediately turned to see the problem. Danvers' top had been pinched and pulled through the bars by a prisoner, holding her body hostage up against the cell. After letting out a quick gasp, Barsad raced to her, leaving Bane alone and provoked.

Barsad dived into the situation, using all of his might to tear the fabric out of the man's grimy clutch. Bane stared irked, but eventually moved forward to the scene. "RELEASE HER!", screamed Barsad. Though he was losing the battle, which was plainly seen by Danvers' gasping and choking. Bane came up behind Barsad, who suddenly lost his balance and fell out of the way. The masked man took the prisoner's hand into his and, like a machine, slowly crushed his bones. He watched with pleasure as the man cried in agony. "Keep your hands to yourself."

Finally letting go, the man slithered away, cradling his hand that now looked like a crinkled up Coke can. Bane watched the prisoner, momentarily stricken with delight, being that he was the man responsible for disfiguring the other prisoner from earlier. When the man had reached a point that covered him in shadow, Bane turned away and onto Danvers. He said nothing and instead waited for her to announce the state of her condition.

**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**

Her lips separated with a pop, eyes narrowed. Having made herself emotionally vulnerable in that moment, she had almost been insulted by Bane's steely response. "What do you mean it won't be the last?" Her question hit Bane's broad shoulders and fell flat on the floor. The argument outside of the bars was considerably more interesting. Unable to resist the temptation, she leaned to the side to get a better view. Blood spilled from between the man's fingers. Prisoners were violent, but these men had a certain viciousness to them that was unmatched by the Gotham City types.

"Don't have to ask me twice." During the panic, she had almost forgotten about the pain her ribs had caused her. She stood up, tenderly pressing her fingertips around the bone. Nearly every section she prodded hurt, but that was to be expected. The laceration had stopped bleeding, at least. Bane had tied the cloths around her midsection tightly and the crimson spot was now drying to a deep brown.

Her hair tumbled in front of her face, preventing her from seeing the threat that was inching closer towards the bars. A warm hard reached through the spaces and slipped into the folds of her shirt. Once the man had a good hold, he made a fist, enclosing the fabric and yanked the woman towards him. Her hands flung out to the sides, reaching for anything to thwart the man's attempts.

Danvers hit the metal with a thud, the sound echoing along the wall of metal. Her ribs felt the brunt of the impact and evoked a shrill scream from her lips. His eyes were desperate and hungry. Beads of oil and sweat dotted his face. "Let go of me!" With all her might, Danvers dug her nails into the flesh of the man's fists. She drew blood, but it wasn't enough to subside his steely grip.

Barsad was suddenly next to her, yelling that he released her. The sickness in her stomach disintegrated only slightly at his assistance, but she continued to yank against the man's grasp. As a result, two of her blouse's buttons popped out of their slits, exposing more of her chest than she was willing to. Like rubber bands, her hands snapped to the bars, pushing herself away from the man as much as possible.

The muscles in her arms had remained rigid enough until the man gave another tug, obviously unfazed by Barsad's demands. Her cheek crashed against the icy bars, knowing that a welt had already started to form. In the last two days, the attorney had acquired more injuries than she had in all her years in Gotham.

Calmly, Bane stepped up and Barsad fell out of the way. There were no angry words exchanged, and Danvers fought to not scream at the man to do something. Before she could, he acted. Squeezing like a vice, Bane compressed the man's fingers until he heard a series of sickeningly dull cracks. The bones popped like acorn's under the pressure of a heavy vehicle and quickly released from Danvers.

She stumbled back away from the bars, glaring at the man as he cowered away, moaning in a foreign language. The adrenaline pumped through her veins and the pain in her side was diminishing. Her chest heaved, the fabric - which was now laden with sweat and stretched - drooped pathetically. If Bane's eyes hadn't burned a hole in her form, Danvers wouldn't have noticed that the satiny rim of her bra was peeking out of the corners of her shirt. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks.

"Jesus Christ," she panted, hands shaking as she fought to button her blouse. "God damn... damn animals..."

**POV: BANE**

Still on the floor, Barsad looked worriedly at Danvers. He then switched his gaze onto Bane, who was standing motionless. In disbelief, he scrambled to his feet and began hastily removing his jacket. "Besmillah...", he muttered to himself as he slipped his second arm out of the sleeve. He hurried over to Danvers and draped the jacket over her shoulders. "You're alright?", he questioned while he did his best to fit the abundance of fabric over her smaller frame.

The masked man remained frozen, struck with frustration as he watched Barsad tenderly attend to _his_attorney. In all the time she'd been with Bane, many forceful hands had touched her and rose nothing out of the mercenary. But suddenly, it began to matter - and maybe a little too much. Bane stepped forward, not entirely breaking them up, but asserting himself a bit past comfort. "You've done enough charity here. She's made it this far."

Slowing down, Barsad resisted to return his gaze and followed Danvers' figure down until his eyes hit the floor. His hands retreated from his lent jacket and left well enough alone, hesitating no more to remove himself. Bane stared at the vacant area now, as if his partner was still there occupying it. His eyes were wide and unblinking, reflecting not an ounce of turbulence happening within him. Finally, he was able to slide his eyes onto Danvers, offering nothing but a cold stare.

With little movement, Bane reached into his pocket and retrieved an item. He positioned his hand between them and unwrapped his fingers, revealing the phone. "Your mobile back, Ms. Danvers." He kept his eyes on her only midway through the sentence, feeling it difficult to keep them steady for any duration. "I believe you've earned it." It was a pathetic way, he knew, to show her that he wasn't entirely bad. That she needn't find her comfort in Barsad. That he was still, indeed, her protector.

Bane hadn't completely lost his heart and if she wanted a sense of security other than him- then fine. The phone would be returned and a connection to the outside world reestablished. The warmth of the phone would offer regeneration to her chilled digits and something to occupy her mind with - perhaps a new plan to escape or just an update of the world. Fine, if she wanted nothing to do with him, then he wanted nothing to do with her! He'd forget her again just like he had before!

The masked man's eyes instantly watered and a groan followed quickly behind. He pushed the phone into her, insisting that she take it without anymore delay. He then fled from her, not even caring if the phone made it into her hand, and traveled over to one of the bags Barsad had brought. He began to wheeze as he dug through the contents, searching for his IV bag. Barsad noticed his strange behaviour and approached with caution, but stopped when he caught a glimpse of his eyes.

Barsad swore he witnessed tears, but he could've also been seeing things, considering that sort of action very rarely happened. Though, he heard the distress in his breathing, giving him more reason not to doubt his first sighting. There was something so incredibly peculiar about the situation and it ate at him like a pack of wild, hungry wolves. His eyes strained between the two, staring down Bane and then painstakingly dissecting Danvers.

Barsad juggled the idea that it could be a coincidence. That he was jumping to conclusions that had no rhyme or reason to be welcome in their situation. And that Bane's behavior was completely a result of Talia - - but it couldn't be. _Look at him_, he thought. _Look at the way he's acting_. _He hasn't forgot_. His eyes then drifted delicately onto Danvers. _But, she has_. ..._And he's letting her_. _Why? Why, Bane?_ _Are you still so tethered? You were once bound by her! What happened while you were gone? Why won't you tell me?_

Bane continued rummaging within the bag, while Barsad shot off his voiceless questions. He looked at him with pity, wanting so desperately to find again the man he once knew, the man he admired, his brother and guardian - Asim.


	18. Disloyal Decisions

**Reviews:** **shady-angel821:** Aw, thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it.

**batmanbane:** Ah yes, Barsad. Bane's a little tense with him right now, no? ;) I can't even form logical words to reply to your review. That was just... oh god. You pick up on Bane and his inner workings so well! Ah. You're the best! And here you are - a lovely serving of some Danvers sass! ;)

**goldspleen:** I'm glad we're succeeding in Barsad! Thank you, thank you!

**bluebear:** Understandable and I'm sorry for the confusion there! Hopefully though, you'll continue reading/reviewing/enjoying! You're sweet, and I appreciate you taking the time to read our story! :D

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**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**

Taken aback by Barsad's gesture, she turned to stare at him. Her mouth was parted, eyes still frantic from the attack. Feebly, she nodded, assuring him that an additional mental breakdown wasn't in the near future. As she cleared her throat to speak, Bane interjected. For the first time in her exile, Bane had been blatantly disrespectful.

Again, Barsad sunk away obediently, not caring to keep himself next to her any longer. Gradually, she turned her head to face him. Her green eyes had narrowed, brows pinched together on her forehead. "Charity, Bane? Is that what that was?"

He had ignored her, or so it seemed. Instead, he reached into his pocket, flipping open the canvas flap in his pants. The mobile phone was enclosed and offered to her. At first, she didn't know what to do with it. She had forgotten about the small scale electronic almost entirely - she had forgotten something that she had used at least a hundred times during the day, something that if she didn't feel its weight in her pocket, panic settled over her.

Bane's groan woke her out of her stupor; the phone was being shoved into her stomach. If she hadn't made a concave shape with her hands, the phone would've fallen on the floor and splintered into bits of plastic and rubber. Bane stepped away from her, immediately occupying himself with an unmarked duffle bag.

She stared down at the screen frustrated and anxious, jaw clenched. In the top right hand corner, a tiny blue linked blinked incessantly, letting her know that she had missed calls, texts and voice mails. As if the phone was toying with her, in the few moments she held it in her hand, the light changed from blue to red. Its battery would diminish soon and if she had any plans of doing anything... now would be the time.

Her thumb pressed into the button, and the screen lit up. An empty battery greeted her, warning her. FOUR MISSED CALLS: JIM GORDON. Her stomach clenched, rolling inwards. She had escaped the idiocy of Gotham City, but sinewy ties of emotional attachment still remained. Jim Gordon had been a dear friend to her, he worried about her. As if taunting her, the phone buzzed in her hand again and the last bit of red disappeared.

Working quickly, Danvers navigated into the phone's system menu. She deselected 'Location Tracking and GPS' with a simple click. Barsad's jacket hung heavy on her shoulders, feeling more like a shroud of guilt than a comforting gesture. She'd send the message, but prevent any portion of GCPD, no matter how technologically capable they were, of finding her location and sending help. Returning to the home screen, Danvers highlighted the small envelope and traveled into her inbox. A few digits typed and Commissioner Jim Gordon's number completed itself.

'Not dead. He hasn't hurt me. Daggett - not dead either.'

Her thumb hovered over the green button, stroking the smooth, worn plastic with the pad of her finger. Setting Jim's mind at ease and warning him that Daggett hadn't in fact met his end was the only thing she saw important enough to do on the phone. She closed her eyes and pressed down. The screen changed, alerting her that the message was sending... or attempting to. The black circle spun next to the written words, rotating over and over again. The screen went dark, shuddered into a drained slumber. She thought she had seen the circle stop before it had, but knowing whether or not the message had actually sent was a mystery.

"Barsad," she said. "I appreciate the gesture, and I'm fine." His jacket hung in front of him, hooked on three of her fingers. "Sweating, but I can manage." Barsad and his soft brown eyes were apologetic and Danvers couldn't help but linger... wondering how such a gentle man had become affiliated with such a ruthless incendiary. She offered him a tiny smile and urged the article of clothing into his hands.

Shooing away the fleeting sensation of terror, Danvers moved to stand behind Bane. One hand still clutched the phone. The other rose up and roughly tapped Bane on the shoulder. It was solid muscle, and she regretted letting her anger get the best of her. She had come this far; chickening out wasn't an option.  
"I'm glad that two broken ribs, a stab wound and years of immutable mental anguish later, I've earned my phone. Unfortunately," she paused, irritated that Bane hadn't turned around. Sucking in a deep breath, her legs drove her forward until she stood on the opposite side of the duffle bag.

"Unfortunately," she continued, crouching down on her haunches. "The battery is dead. It's useless to me now, Bane. Keep it as a token of my gratitude for keeping me alive this long."

She leaned forward ripping the duffle bag out of his hands. "I did do one thing with it though... I disabled the GPS and Location Tracking before letting Jim Gordon know that I wasn't rotting in the desert." Casually, she dropped the phone into his duffle bag and scooted it back to him.

"If I wanted to seek solace in my phone, I would've done it while you were unconscious."

With that, the attorney got to her feet, wincing only slightly at the throb in her side. Ruling out anywhere near the bars, she retreated to the back of the cell, where Barsad had originally sat. The action had looked powerful, though Danvers knew internally that she had terrified herself and run out of fear. Bane could've crushed her and her lamentable attitude. Her eyes drifted shut, hoping to pacify her wild nerves.

**POV: BANE**

Upon feeling the pressure on his shoulder, Bane stopped what he was doing and slowly rose his eyes up. They paused on the bars in front of him as he listened. He then frowned and turned his head, seeing that she had moved beside him. He stared at her intensely as she spoke, trying to figure out whether he should be appalled or relieved towards what she'd said. The decision was then made for him as the bag was ripped out of the loose grip he had on it.

The wrinkles between Bane's eyes grew deeper. He glanced at his hanging, empty hand and then returned to Danvers. As the bag slid back to him, he breathed deeply in and stared at it. He didn't care to look at her while she walked away, too interested in the fact that the mobile was back in his possession. The lips of the bag were wrinkled, but created an opening big enough to where he could see it. Reaching out, he brushed away the right side and picked up the mobile.

Danvers was telling the truth, he knew. There was no reason to press his finger into the power button and check. But that was not why he'd taken it out. He lifted himself up and turned to where Danvers had left to. He'd grown tired of gestures that were given back to him. Objects of importance that had meaning to him, but only seen as tools to others. His chest inflated and flattened as he breathed, staring off into the shadows that Danvers had submerged herself inside.

Bane slowly approached her, eventually noticing that her eyes were closed. To him, there was no sense in warning her that he was there. He took one last look down at the mobile and wiped his thumb over the screen. "If this is of no use to you.", he began, then paused to breath twice and bring his eyes up to her. "Then it has no use to me." He took the mobile in both hands and snapped it in half, tossing the two pieces in opposite directions of themselves.

Bits and pieces sprinkled the ground, peppering the area around Bane's feet. He stared at her a moment, as if waiting for her to come at him with fists full of fury. But when nothing was done, he departed from the wreckage and headed back towards the bag, where Barsad was now busying himself. He stopped and rested his eyes on the back of his head, which Barsad quickly felt. He zipped up the bag and then turned, standing up and holding it by the handles. "While you were unconscious, I'd done it," he told him.

It wasn't that it took long to register in Bane's mind, but instead that he was trying to figure out the lingering expression on Barsad's face. He knew it had nothing to do with earlier, but everything to do with the oddness between him and Danvers. He chose to ignore it however and press on with more important matters - such as leaving. "Thank you," he said and then aimlessly traveled over to a different part of the cell.

Bane's eyes swept over the walls and floor, though he didn't need a reminder of the Pit's construction. It was always there in his thoughts and dreams, having never actually escaped it. He was imprisoned for the remainder of his life, no matter how far he'd distance himself from this place. He'd argue he had accepted the dark reality, but no one truly does. Barsad then woke him out of his daydreaming, stepping in front of him. "Soon they'll be here. We'd better leave, Bane."

Nodding, Bane kept silent a moment before responding. "Yes," he finally spoke. "Time to go." Barsad then left him and went to where his backpack sit. He bent over and picked it up, then through the straps over his shoulders. After that, he made sure Bane wasn't looking and then turned to Danvers. He dug in his pocket for something while walking up to her. Standing a few feet away and making it look as though he was tending to the bag next to her, he quietly spoke. "Take this," he whispered and then handed her a small packet of crackers.

Barsad's eyes met with Danvers' face for a split second and then tore away. He had one more thing to give her, but checked behind him to make sure Bane was still occupied. "And keep this with you," he finished as he placed a water bottle beside her leg. He then zipped up the bag, threw the strap over his shoulder and left to stand by the door of the cell.

**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**

"...the search still continues for Michelle Danvers, a Gotham City attorney who disappeared four days ago from Gotham General, along with the criminal known as Bane. Authorities released a statement to the public stating that they although they don't know the motive behind the kidnapping, they have reason to believe that Bane did take the woman hostage. They ask that if you have any information to please call the number on your screen to be connected with the police department."

The living room was dark, only illuminated by the blue glow of the TV. Gordon sat hunched over on the couch. The news brief was one he'd seen a dozen times in past four days, but felt even more. A picture popped up on the screen, showing Michelle's bright and eager smile. He had released the statement for her, feeling that it was the only thing he could pacify his guilt with.

Bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep. His mobile buzzed on the coffee table, causing Jim to lean forward to see the number. "1 NEW TEXT FROM: MICHELLE DANVERS"

His eyes widened, scrambling to push the appropriate buttons that would open the message.

"Not dead. He hasn't hurt me. Daggett - not dead either."

Nearly throwing the phone to his ear, Gordon pushed his glasses up his nose, waiting. There was a chance that if he returned the call quick enough, she'd answer. Instead of a ring, he was instantly greeted with a mechanical, emotionless voice. "We're sorry, the number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again."

Out of fear, she didn't open her eyes. She didn't open them when she heard his words and continued to keep them closed for all the following actions. It was a deep crunch that caused her eyebrows to pull together. Her eyes still hadn't peeled apart, but what Bane had done was apparent, even without her vision to confirm it. _Well,_ she thought. _...That's one way of handling it._

A small piece of the phone hit the tip of her shoe. His heavy footsteps followed, moving away from her. Something had been lost in translation and whether or not Bane knew that would remain a mystery. Danvers wasn't the emotional, problem solving type, so she agreed internally that she wouldn't bring it up.

"I'd done it while you were unconscious," Barsad said. She knew he was talking about the IV, which she had watched him administer with an attentive eye. She had followed every drop as it flowed through the plastic tubing and into his wide, meaty forearm. There was something in the pit of her stomach that burned away, alerting her that Bane was moving farther away and purposely occupying himself with something else, something that wasn't her.

"Take this," Barsad was suddenly beside her. A small package was pressed into the palm of her hand, which Danvers instantly wrapped her slender fingers around to conceal. Her stomach growled at the very sight of the crackers; she'd been ravenously hungering for something with a little flavor since the soup she'd ingested earlier.

A small, thin bottle of water was placed behind her ankle, too. She lifted her eyes to the soft spoken patron, giving him a small nod. This charity, she was thankful for. He stood up without another word, leaving Danvers to contemplate opening the package and breaking off a small corner. Bane wasn't watching her, which provoked her to do so. If she didn't take the chance then, the crackers might face the same fate that her mobile had.

The two men had their backs turned to her, waiting by the front of the cell. She had broken off the corner of one of the crackers and placed it on the back of her tongue. The saliva softened the cracker, preventing any noisy crunching when she began chewing. As soon as she had swallowed it, enjoying the fleeting moment of feeling full, she bent down, slipping the packet into one of her socks.

Although she didn't remember doing so, Danvers had managed to collect her jacket before getting out of Dagget's vehicle. It now laid on the bed in a crumpled, wrinkled heap. It was useless to her; it'd never be worn in a courtroom again looking like that. However, it still served one purpose. Moving over to the bed and snatching it up gingerly, Danvers slipped her arms into the holes, adjusting it until it fell right. The bottle of water which had been in her hand was then dropped into the pocket.

She took a deep breath and four steady steps later, had closed the distance between her and the men. There was a difference though, that made her hands tremble as she stood there. She had chosen, out of maliciousness, to stand next to Barsad instead of Bane. Her face was blank, eyes staring hard through the bars. Growing up with an attorney, as her father was, had pounded many strong morals into her head. She remembered her father's soft brown eyes, strong hands holding her slender arms as he spoke. _'There is no action without reaction, Michelle. Remember that. Everything you do will cause something else. A consequence will follow. Before you decide on something, consider if you're capable of handling what happens to you.'_

Her eyes drifted shut, throat tightening. Unintentionally, Danvers swayed with the sickness in her stomach, her shoulder pressing into Barsad's. She knew there would be a consequence for this situation. What it was or how severe... that was something she dreaded finding out.


	19. Sacrificing

**_Replies: _Batmanbane: **Right, as always! She wanted to show Bane that even though he gave her that privilege - she doesn't want it. Here's a new chapter, full of drama! Enjoy it!**_  
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**Bluebear:** Thank you so much for the compliment!

**xgoodxgirlxgonexbadx:** Aw, thank you so much! I'm glad you find it interesting enough that it stands out from the rest! Thank you for reading/reviewing!

**sweetpea42:** Thank you for reading/reviewing!

**ilovefalloutboy:** Here you are, a brand new chapter! Thanks for reading/reviewing!

**_NOTE:_** This chapter gets a bit intense and a bit dramatic. We get some serious Bane muscle action here, and of course, we get to see Danvers stressing out more than she wants to over Bane's safety. Enjoy, everyone!

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**_POV: BANE_**

Barsad stiffened when Danvers assumed her place next to him. He felt the presence of her body like an intruder in the dark. Not wanting to look at Bane, he lowered his head and kept his eyes on the floor. He'd await orders - nothing else. He wasn't responsible for her actions. _Damn you_, he thought to himself. _This wouldn't have happened if you'd take care of her...like you once did._ A single droplet of sweat then zigzagged down his forehead, ending at his eyebrow.

Bane noticed Barsad's change in posture immediately after turning his head to him. He stopped and stared, dragging his eyes up and down his body. When he was finished, he transfered over to Danvers and met her eyes. One final time he viewed Barsad and let out a faint groan, while lightly nodding his head. He then stepped away and towards the door. He scanned the area outside of it, looking deep in concentration and acting as though he was unaffected by Danvers' choice.

It was much different on the inside. He could hardly pay any attention to what was happening beyond the bars. And moments from now, it would be a serious mistake unto him. Minutes later, Bane finally unlocked the cell and swung open the door. He stepped to the side, allowing Barsad to pass by who had spotted the sign that their method of rescue had arrived. Danvers and Bane were then left alone. The masked man wouldn't look at her, instead keeping his head turned with eyes on Barsad.

While keeping the rest of his body still, Bane lifted his hand and pointed his finger in the direction that led them out of the cell. Saying nothing, he held his hand steady until she had carried out his silent order. Once she was by, he dropped his hand and followed closely behind her. His eyes remained on the back of her head, watching as her hair bounced and swayed with her movement. No matter the frustration inside of him, he still persisted on protecting every last strand.

Bane broke away from her golden crown to look at Barsad, who had grabbed onto a rope that was being lowered down. "You first.", he said as he offered his hand to lift her up onto the step. As Barsad pulled her up, Bane slowly backed away. Something had felt odd to him and compelled him enough to wander off a bit. As if someone was running their finger down his back, Bane sharply turned, though was only met with the shadows.

However, there was very little that could hide from him there. It didn't take long until he spotted a figure that was staring back. Then suddenly, it emerged. "You return...again?", an older man asked, looking appalled and amused at the same time. "Even after your face.", he continued. "After they come and rescue you." He threw his hand up, disgusted at the figure being harnessed. "Again and again." Bane remained still, listening intently and watching the man as he spoke. His eyes drifted a moment as they caught more movement in the shadows.

Five other men then became visible, softly chanting as they came together. "You never climbed. Never made the jump.", the man told him. "You deserved to die. Like the mother. Like the child should have." Bane's eyes narrowed upon hearing the last of what was said. His fists curled into solid balls, finally realizing who they all were. He was back again, risking his life for what he cared for. Turning his head back for a split second, he checked on the progress of Danvers. He saw that she was being lifted and that was enough for him.

Returning his attention onto the men, Bane assumed a fighting stance and shared his heavy gaze amongst every man. But what he'd missed earlier, what had cost him now were inches away behind him. A large chain then wrapped around his neck, chocking him hard and bringing him to his knees. Barsad had seen this, but was knocked unconscious before being able to help him. Bane gagged inside his mask and clawed at the metal, using the entirety of his strength to get his fingers in between his neck and the chain.

The veins in his head were raised high and the colour of his flesh was fading from a deep red to a blue. He decided to give up on pulling the chain away and instead take out the problem at its source. After grabbing securely onto the arm of the chain that was taut behind him, Bane used whatever energy he could muster and yanked it swiftly towards him, causing the three men that had a hold on it to topple to the floor. The right side of the chain then went slack, allowing him to slip his head out of the created hole. He gasped strongly, which wheezed and whistled through the grate of his mask, sounding robotic.

But Bane knew he could only spend so much time on recovery. He then hastily took the other side of the chain into his hand, wrapped it around his fist, and stood up with it. The men that had fallen were scrabbling to their feet, but not coming back to attack him. Their peculiar behavior made him turn back to the group of men, who had vanished. In a slight panic, Bane snapped his head from side to side. And then... he had seen the worst.

The men were climbing fast, gaining on Danvers. Bane acted quickly and sprinted after them. He ran up the stairs and around the rectangular basin. He leaped between gaps, the chain chiming loudly along with him. It wasn't long before he finally caught up with them, however they were already scaling the wall. Bane then made use of the chain and swung it over his head. His muscles rippled, displaying the brute force within him.

Bane hooked the chain around one of the men's ankles. Before the prisoner knew what had happened, he yanked and sent him falling to the stone floor. As soon as the others caught on to what was going on, they began climbing faster. On top of that, other prisoners were coming to stop Bane. They started swarming him, causing him to pause between swings and fight. After knocking a few of them out and giving him a break in the ambush, he was able to bring down 3 other men.

One remained and was closing in behind Danvers dangerously fast. But before Bane could bring him down, he was attacked by another group. He used the chain again to his benefit, swinging it over his head and then taking out prisoner after prisoner with a swift cut through the air. He was again given an opportunity to return to what was important to him. But too much time had passed and the man was too far away to catch.

Bane understood he had to make the climb. He hurried back to Barsad, who was still unconscious, and threw him over his shoulder. He then returned to the steps and began his way up. It was grueling with the added weight, putting strain on the areas in his body that had withstood torturous tests. Though no matter the pain he was in, he was driven by the desire to save Danvers. Scaling faster than he anticipated, Bane paused to look up and was surprised to see he was almost to the man.

However, it meant nothing, seeing as the prisoner was reaching out and grabbing hungrily for Danvers. The image fueled him and he was climbing as fast as when Talia had done it. He was just about there, hearing a scream in the meantime. One last jump and he'd have him. Sweat was pouring, his breathing harsh and causing his mask to let out sounds he only recalled hearing while training with the League. He stopped to regain his breath a bit, looking at the final gap that separated him from saving Danvers.

After a moment of preparation, Bane held Barsad tightly to him and made a running jump. He swam through the air, until finally touching down on the other side. His landing was rough, causing him to stumble and eventually roll with Barsad. But it was barely reason to keep him down. Leaving Barsad on the floor, he raced over to the man that had Danvers' by the arm. Bane grabbed him by the back of his robes, not even paying attention to the amount of energy he'd just spent, and raised him high into the air to dangle over the edge.

"LA! LA! BELLATI!" The man screamed, terrified for his life. But Bane looked at him with no compassion. It was the same as a fisherman holding up a worm, ready to bait his hook. He looked at the man, then down below, then at the man again. Their eyes connected and the prisoner knew...this was it. Bane then let go, which was followed by a short scream and a splatter. He didn't bother to look, but turned to Danvers instead. His eyes were pitiful, almost as if to ask for forgiveness. He watched, breathing hard, as she was being lifted and with nothing in her way to stop her escape now.

**_POV: MICHELLE DANVERS_**

She hadn't felt that guilty in years. It was a dark, mucky feeling that wrapped its slimy fingers around her throat and squeezed until she wanted to scream out an apology. Had they stood there a moment longer, she might've. Bane threw open the cell door, allowing Barsad to duck out first. Fear bubbled up, Danvers worried that Bane would snap her neck and carry on with his intentions. It was somewhat of a surprise when his hand lifted, pointing her in the course she needed to go. Not needing much direction, Danvers quickly exited the cell and followed where Barsad had hurriedly walked off.

"You first."

After hesitating for only a second, Danvers slipped her fingers into Barsad's and up his hand until she reached his wrist. Barsad mirrored the action and hoisted her up, bringing her that much closer to freedom. There was an elation boiling in her stomach. Although she wasn't going home, she was getting out of this hell. Danvers lifted her arms, allowing Barsad to tie the rope around her upper torso. He was careful to avoid any additional pain for her ribs.

She had only been pulled about a quarter of the way up when the attack on Bane started. It began with one men, then three behind him, and finally more in front of him. Barsad had made a small move towards him with intentions of helping, but the action cost him his consciousness. One heavy blow to his skull and he crumpled to the ground below her. Danvers could only watch, helplessly dangling above it all as the men above pulled her up.

Everything that was happening frightened her to a new level. It was surreal and novel to anything she had ever experienced before - even jumping out of an aircraft while tied to a mercenary.

One man had remained diligent in making the climb and was closing in on her right ankle. His hand reached out, swiping at her pant leg. Using every ounce of strength she thought she possessed (and possibly some she didn't), Danvers gripped the rope high above her head and pulled herself up a few inches. It wasn't substantial, but it had been enough to put her just out of reach. Bane was close behind. Closer than she had remembered, and the mottle, the terrible wet sound that followed his arrival was enough to bring the bile in her stomach up.

Once they had lifted her to the top, Danvers used the rest of her strength to crawl out against the uneven rocks. They were warm under her palms, having been heated by the sun all the day. _The sun_, she thought, _I haven't felt the sun in what feels like forever._She leaned forward, gripping her knees tightly. She swallowed and straightened up, looking into the eyes of the men in front of her. "Uh..."

She identified the look on the faces of the men around her; they didn't know who she was and they weren't even sure that they had just dragged up the correct individual. The moment of silence continued as they all exchanged glances between each other. Danvers squinted, staring up into the sun. She hadn't felt warmth on her skin since... Bane held her. The thought was such an uncomfortable one that it jerked her into action. One of the men took a step closer, warranting a hand from Danvers. Everything was quiet. They held their breaths, waiting for her explanation.

"I'm," she panted and swallowed. "I'm his attorney. It's okay. I'm supposed to be here." Despite the peculiar answer - these men were clearly wondering what an attorney would be doing in a place like that - she felt it was enough of a response to satisfy them. Having mollified her breathing, Danvers reached down and untied the course rope from her waist, walking slowly over to the opening of the cavity. Her breaths came in uneven heaves, chest rising and falling sporadically.

Bane. He was standing on one of the uneven ledges, looking up at her. The fading sun that filtered down reflected all the sweat that covered his body. His skin was returning to a normal color, though Danvers knew that the damage wouldn't disappear completely until he was removed. She held her arm out and began feeding the rope through her hand. Eventually, it was hanging down into the trench with a length equal to her height. Bane's eyes burned into hers, they were emotional, they were pained... and they were sorry.

Danvers choked back an icy sensation and tossed the rope into the darkness, aiming for him. Instead of walking away, Danvers crouched down onto her haunches, resting her arms on the tops of her thighs. She wasn't going to run. She'd watch Bane as he made the climb and greet him when he achieved it. She dipped her head, giving him a small nod of encouragement.

_**POV: BANE**_

When he saw she was over the ledge, Bane brought his head back down and remembered Barsad at his feet. He turned to notice him stirring and knelt down at his side. While Barsad took a moment to open his eyes, Bane peered over the side, seeing more prisoners begin to make the climb now. He quickly shot his attention back onto Barsad and placed his hand on his shoulder. Once his friend was alert and able to respond, he squeezed gently. "Are you able to continue, brother?"

Barsad caught his breath and nodded fast. "Yes," he answered and then began to pick himself up. "Good." Bane aided him by grabbing a fist full of his shirt and pulled him up. Within seconds, he was back on his feet and ready at the masked man's side. Looking over the edge again, Bane could see that their time was cutting short. "We need to climb." He paused to gesture with his head and hand at the stone step in front of them. "Go."

Without hesitation, Barsad took a step back and then made a running jump to the next stone. Bane followed closely behind, continuing up until they finally reached the infamous step. Not knowing anything about it, Barsad prepared himself and went for the leap. But before he could lift off, Bane caught him and tore him back. "NO!" he shouted as he tackled him to the ground. His breathing was strained, looking at Barsad with wide and worrisome eyes. "You will not make that!"

Shaken, Barsad stared back in fear and swallowed hard. He parted from the masked man to take another look at what could have possibly been his demise. After the realization hit him as hard as the fall would've, he went back to Bane. He steadied his breath and searched his friend's eyes. "What do we do?" Looking away, Bane rolled from Barsad and stood up. In the corner of his eye, he spotted the rope coming back down. However, it wasn't coming fast enough.

Bane looked below another time, seeing to their dismay that there wasn't any time to wait. The prisoners were only a few steps away. They'd have to keep pressing on and seclude themselves on the ledge he knew they couldn't reach. He brought his attention onto the stone step and then strained his neck to look back onto Barsad, who was getting up and onto his feet. He looked at him briefly and then shifted to the area behind him, which was beginning to swarm with prisoners.

"I will throw you." Bane finally blurted out. Barsad momentarily looked at him stunned. But the trust he had in him quickly melted away the anxiety. "Okay," he said agreeing. He then stepped up to him, vulnerably handing himself over to his friend. Bane looked him up and down, silently acknowledging his sacrifice. As he went to grab for him, Barsad lunged out first. "Wait. What about you?" he asked in a panic.

Bane's eyes drifted and Barsad watched as he floated to a place in his mind he very rarely witnessed. After too long of a silence, Barsad's grip got heavier, waking Bane up. "We will see.", he answered calmly, making eye contact one last time. He then got a firm hold on Barsad and picked him up. He cocked his body and aimed for the ledge. Bane let out a deafening moan as he exerted all his force, sending Barsad flying through the air. Time stood still while Bane held his breath, watching his friend make it to other side.

All the air Bane held in then rushed out as Barsad touched down onto the step. However, the relief was short lived, hearing the sounds of the prisoners clambering behind him. A few had made it to his step, which were all met with his fist. They fell to their stone graves below, which didn't seem to discourage any of the other men, who were still coming on strong. Barsad had heard the noises of Bane's distress and hastily dragged himself over to the ledge to peak over it.

He could see Bane was holding on strong, but he didn't know for how much longer. The crowd of men was growing and it was taking more and more time for Bane to take each of them out. And then he watched it happen, watched as the prisoners, one by one, began piling up on him. "BANE!", he shouted frantically. But suddenly, he remembered his gun. He patted himself down, first checking where it was usually. When he felt nothing, he went on to check any other place it could be. But he stopped the second he was painfully hit with the reminder that he'd placed his guns in the duffel bag that he'd sent up with Danvers.

Barsad looked up and loudly cursed himself. If only he knew. He then brought his attention back onto Bane, who was now completely covered. He wanted so desperately to jump back, to help his friend. Though, he knew he couldn't and it hurt him that he had to watch him endure even more pain. As his hope slowly dwindled, Barsad's eyes began to water. _Please, _he begged inside his head. _Please, Bane. Get out of there! _While he watched, he didn't notice the rope lowering behind him.

It hit him in the leg, disturbing his concentration. He snapped his head around and saw it, his eyes widening upon grasping what it was. After flipping over, he crawled over to it and gripped it in his hand. Standing up, he walked it back over to the ledge to see if Bane had progressed. His eyes hectically searched the heaping pile of men, his breathing turning short and quick. His hold on the rope tightened with every passing second he couldn't see him.

Until finally, Bane emerged. His fists swung like large clubs through the air, knocking prisoners out left and right. He was able to clear most of them off and get a good running jump to the next stone. He wasted no time and went for it, lifting off like a spring. But one of the prisoners had climbed up and ran after Bane, jumping directly after him. He reached out with his hand, grabbing onto the masked man's boot.

Bane stretched out his arm, but suddenly felt the weight on his leg. However, he was able to hook himself onto the ledge. It was a test of all tests, with nothing to pull up on. His arms skidded along the dusty and smooth surface of the stone, fighting to keep holding on. He groaned in his mask, while his eyes hinted the terror he was feeling. Barsad acted quickly and brought the rope to him, shoving it in his face. "TAKE IT, BANE!" he demanded. But the masked man only stared and shook his head. "No.", he squeezed out between gasps.

If Bruce had made it, so could he. Barsad looked at him confused, not understanding why he wouldn't just take the rope. "Bane! Please! Take it!" he pleaded, almost in tears. The veins in Bane's neck and arms seemed as though they were about to explode. Sweat was dripping and rolling down the back of his neck and temples. The prisoner was now climbing up his leg, making it even worse. Bane was slipping more, throwing Barsad into even more hysteria. "BANE!"

The rope then began to pull up, startling Barsad. He snarled and looked at it, not understanding what was happening. "No. No!" he shouted, but knew his screams would go unanswered. He dropped his attention back down on Bane, who was still fighting hard not to fall. The frustration he was feeling was overwhelming, not knowing why Bane refused the rope and why the rope was leaving. He could do nothing again, but merely be a witness. It wasn't enough. It was never enough.

Bane's arms began to shake as they were being stripped of their power. The prisoner still kept climbing, eventually reaching Bane's vest. He waited, hoping that the plan he just fabricated would work. Collecting every last drop of strength within him, Bane let go with one hand still attached. He reached around behind him and grabbed the man by the hair. He moaned in agony at the amount of energy he was spending, surpassing any limit he'd ever been pushed to.

Bane gripped and ripped the man's hair, feeling the strands snapping from out of their follicles. The prisoner screamed and then latched his arm around Bane's neck. The more Bane pulled, the tighter the man squeezed. Barsad continued to watch, but couldn't contain himself for much longer. Even though he had faith in Bane, he knew this was a test even too great for the mercenary. He looked at Bane's face, who then suddenly was looking back at him. He noticed as something washed over his friend's eyes and he refused to come to terms with what he was seeing.

Danvers had been Bane's final thought before making the decision to let go. He was losing and perhaps Bruce was indeed the stronger one. Bane's eyes peered deeply into Barsad's. He knew with him still alive, she would survive. "Goodbye," he whispered. But just as he was about to let go, Barsad jumped for the rope and tugged it back down, using all of his body weight to bring it back. As it came down, he sprinted towards Bane and opened the clasp on the rope.

Before Bane slipped away, Barsad leaped and slid forward, clipping it to his vest in time. Bane's body jerked as it was caught, which the prisoner could not handle and lost his grip. Swinging in the air, Bane had then understood what had happened. He looked up, seeing Barsad looking over the step. He was then able to grab the ledge again. With the small amount of strength he had, he pulled himself up, the rope going slack behind him as he finally got to his feet.

As Bane rose intimidatingly and unlatched the clasp, Barsad kept firmly where he was, ready to withstand whatever punishment was in store for him. It didn't matter. He couldn't watch him die - _wouldn't_. "I wasn't about to let you die," he confessed, holding back the urge to sob. His throat tightened, making it hard to push out the remainder. "I could never." His face came together as if he had bit down on a lemon. Bane remained silent, staring down his friend with furious eyes. A moment later, his hand lifted and rested on Barsad's shoulder. Bane's eyes blinked and then softened. "Thank you," he said finally.

But he didn't allow the moment to linger. Bane then wrapped the rope around Barsad and secured it. Before Barsad could argue, the rope lifted him up, leaving his friend to watch alone as another one he cared for made it out.

_**POV: MICHELLE DANVERS**_

Blonde strands stuck to the attorney's face. She had almost forgotten what the warmth of the sun felt like, but that wasn't the only cause of her perspiring. Barsad and Bane were discussing something intensely, words that Danvers couldn't hear from that distance despite her straining. There was an urgency in their actions, invoked by the men who continued charging towards them.

It occurred to her shortly after though, when Bane picked Barsad up. Her green eyes widened, pupils dilating. Like a fervent Gotham Rogues fan, the woman watched as he flew the air. Her fists were clenched, begging and pleading internally with herself that he'd make it to the goal. When he did, and scrambled to get a grip on the stone, Danvers sucked in a high-pitched breath of relief.

Like a single drop of blood in a sea of water, the feeling of achievement was bright and visible for only a short second before disintegrating. How had they managed to get the best of him? An entire city had been brought to their knees by this man, and a dozen psychotic prisoners had just swallowed him whole.

"Barsad!" Her voice echoed, but did no good. Barsad didn't turn to face her, his concentration too deep to have heard her.

"What are you doing!? Bane! Take the rope! Take it!" Danvers leaned over the edge, screaming as loud as her parched throat would allow. Barsad was desperately trying to convince the masked man, his motions frantic and emotions uninhibited. The succeeding moments happened in slow motion, like frames illustrating the ghastly images of a crime scene. The man reached Bane's vest and Bane responded by removing one arm from the ledge. Bane attempted to wrench him free, and received the man's choke hold in return. There was an infinitesimal moment that occurred - and Danvers wasn't even sure how she was saw it - where Bane gave up. His other arm began to slip.

"NO!" Danvers lurched forward, knees skidding against the rocks. A few pebbles rolled over the edge, falling silently below. Just as the opportunity had nearly slipped away from them, Barsad took action and had flourished in clipping the rope to Bane's vest.

She straightened up and clapped her hands to her face, covering her nose and mouth. "Oh my god," she whined. "Oh my... god." The attorney's heavy breathing created a tight suction, muffling her repeated term of anxiety. "Oh my god."

The makeshift crank that they had assembled was doing little good; the men were doing most of the work. They let out a grunt with each heave and Barsad slowly ascended. The men stopped tugging on the rope as soon as his hand shot up from the darkness, slapping down onto the rocks.

Danvers stood to move out of his way, but not far. She extended her hand, which to her surprise, Barsad took. At this point, she assumed, everyone was grateful for everyone else's help, no matter how insignificant it seemed. Once Barsad was on his feet, Danvers placed her hand on his forearm. He slowly rose his eyes to her, not daring to talk.

"Thank you," she started, pausing to chew on the inside of her cheek. The moment was awkward between them and they both knew it. "I just... feel like I need to thank you."

She turned and began walking around the circular gap and didn't stop until she reached the exact location of where Bane was. "Bane!" she shouted. "As your attorney, I'm ordering you to cut this... this sacrificial, saving everyone before yourself crap! There's no one left but you!"

Danvers held her hand out, and the rope was placed into her palm. By who, she didn't know. She didn't care. For the second time that day, she threw the rope into the hole. It swung down, the metal clamp slapping against the stone wall.

"You want the rope?! Use it! Don't want it?! Start climbing!"


	20. Journey

**REPLIES: **Bloody hell!There's so many of you! I'll continue the individual replies (especially if you have any questions) on the next chapter... but thank you, thank you, thank you! We really appreciate the positive feedback, even without any beta-ing beforehand! It's inspiring and heart-warming to know that you all enjoy this so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

**Note: **An update, finally! I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting... but those are the woes of a college student, no? Anyways, here's a new chapter and I promise it won't be so long until the next update. It's a shorter one, but it's all leading up to Danvers and that oncoming breakthrough that you all have been predicting. Enjoy and keep reviewing! xx

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**POV: BANE**

Upon hearing the female shout, Bane lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the Pit's opening. He could see the outline of his attorney's long hair, her slender body leaning forward and taunting him. His attention then switched to the lowered rope. He ignored it and rose his hand to a protruding stone, latching his fingers like an eagle's claw on a fish. Then pulling up, he lifted his body and grabbed for another.

Climbing up and up, he moved at a steady pace. From time to time, he'd look at Danvers and imagined her expression when he'd finally made it out. He calculated only three more stones to climb and then freedom. When his hand reached the opening, he grunted loudly as he lifted himself up and onto the Pit's edge. Barsad was immediately at his side, hand placed firmly on his shoulder. "You've made it," he said, out of any ear's reach.

Bane's eyes lifted to his and locked onto them. He continued catching his breath before finally giving him a small nod and raising up. Bane kept his head down while getting onto feet. He rolled his shoulder a couple times before looking up and seeing that he was surrounded. Instinctively, he searched for Danvers, who was safely standing a few feet away from Barsad. Confused and paranoid about any new company, he stared down the group. When the men began stepping back, Barsad rushed in front of them and stood.

Like a mother defending her babies, Barsad shielded them. "You know them," he told Bane, using Moroccan Arabic to purposely single someone out. Now looking at Barsad, the masked man answered with a doubting gaze. The expression laid heavy on him, causing Barsad to momentarily look away and swallow back many years of grief. When he found the strength to return to Bane, the look on his face expressed his disbelief. "You once did." Not caring to venture any further into the conversation, Bane growled and walked away.

As he passed by Danvers, Bane took a side glance of her. He wouldn't confess to being happy to see her, but the thought was there in his mind. "Come attorney," he called back. "We musn't get behind schedule." Frustrated, Barsad sighed deeply and ground his teeth. He didn't know how much more he could take of Bane's ignorance to his past. Rolling his eyes, he turned halfway to the men behind him. "We will follow.", he directed in their language.

**POV: DANVERS**

Quietly observing the interaction between Bane and Barsad, she was reminded for a second time that the foreign language was not the only communication barrier they had put up for Danvers. There were many things that were said with no words, all of which made the attorney uncomfortably curious. She made eye contact with Barsad for a brief second before the distance forced her to turn her head. He, in return, bowed his head and fell into step behind her. The other men followed him, as they had been instructed to do.

The prison they had just escaped from was the polar opposite of what surrounded them. Naturally, the open space was a relief, and even further on, below the uneven rocks and sparse plants, a city spread out far past one's line of vision, tempting a recently freed woman to jump for joy at the notion of civilization. She inhaled a small breath and clamped her jaws down to hold it in.

Although Bane had continued his trek forward, Danvers paused, lingering behind him. Far off in the horizon, that city became more apparent. Buildings unfolded upon each other, looking more like a maze of squares than a place that people lived. There were shades of blues, reds and the consistent dusty orange of the desert around them. However, this vista wasn't something that the attorney hadn't experienced before.

_The heavy, warm air greeted them the moment they stepped off the plane. Michelle was first, then the other two girls, finally followed by her much louder male peers. Thankful that she had worn a t-shirt, she adjusted the strap on her shoulder. "Wow," she breathed. "It's beautiful." _

_A Jeep was waiting for them, a few feet away. She knew it was the tour guide that had been arranged to escort them to the hotel. They were students here on a university vacation and because of that, they were treated with hospitality. As soon as they had all gathered, the small group began approaching them. _

"_Welcome to Morocco." The man extended his arms, in welcoming. Two of the women behind him approached the females, folded up fabric in their hands. "These are kurtis, the common outfit of our culture." His accent was heavy, but no one had a problem understanding what he was offering. _

"_Oh, look Missy. I'm an Arabian Princess. Someone tell Aladdin I've arrived, and he needs to ravish me. Here, put yours on." The square of sheer, gauze-like fabric was thrust into her arms. It was a bright orange colour._

"_Later," The young, blonde law student said, carefully stuffing the tunic into her shoulder bag. Her eyes were focused on the bustling city below, feeling an odd sense of familiarity. Of course, that sensation came from being born and raised in an equally, if not more, ever-moving city. She was blatant in her annoyance for the other girl, whose attention span consisted of men and the new outfit. "We need to get into the city. I'm sure we're all hungry."_

"_You're such a square, Missy. Loosen up, would you?"_

"_The eager one is right! Come! Let the festivities begin!"_

"Miss-" Barsad said, his hand on her shoulder. Danvers wheeled around, eyes wide and red-rimmed. She threw Barsad's warm hand off her shoulder, looking as if he'd just ripped her shirt in half. The volume of her voice was a little louder than she intended. The beginning of a name that she had packed away with the kurti that was given to her that day had almost been pronounced. Her fingers quivered at her side, which she was unable to control. Had she stared off any longer, the tears would've began collecting at her corners. "What!"

Barsad's face was oddly unaffected. It was almost as if he had expected the outburst. It occurred to her that he was being polite, 'Miss' was a term frequently used when two weren't on a first name basis. Danvers cringed, not wanting to turn and look at Bane, or any of the other men. She wasn't comfortable with Barsad having seen that, but bringing in others would be much worse. "Oh god, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Her stomach twisted and bucked as Danvers made the effort to catch up to Bane, although if she had stayed with Barsad, it would've alerted Bane that something had changed. The attorney pushed her shoulders back, trying to stand tall at her kidnapper's side. Regardless of the situations that had unfolded at The Pit, there was a portion of her that still wanted to refer to Bane as such. Of course, he hadn't treated her like a stolen jewell, but the fact remained that her life had been violently interrupted by this man.

"I'd like to know where we're going. I'd like to, but I'm not going to ask because I know I won't get an answer."

**POV: BANE**

Following the attorney's question, Bane blew out of his mask like an angry bull. Her voice wasn't easy to ignore and even more frustrating was her adhesive presence. He wasn't fighting the urge not to tell her where they were going, he honestly didn't want to and began searching out a way to draw her attention elsewhere. But like a pink elephant in the room, Morocco wasn't something you could throw a blanket over and hide.

But Bane remembered that Danvers had given him the option to keep up with his silent and brooding attitude. Though not particularly proud of it, he decided it was best to remain that way. His eyes were steady on the city in front of them, until whispers from behind caused him to turn his head over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes upon seeing Barsad conversing intimately with two of the men. When one of them pried their attention away and placed it onto Bane, the masked man returned his head back forward.

The familiarity he felt in the eyes of these men was easing him faster into a past mould than his boots were sinking into the sand. He would feel eyes on the back of his head from time to time, and knew that Barsad was partly responsible. He didn't know what he expected him to do or more so what to say. And the pressure was building quickly, not only from those behind, but beside as well.

When they entered into the city, it appeared to be a wasteland. Sand had broken down most of the structures and what was left looked like a mouth of jagged teeth. One building, however, remained stronger from the rest and was located on a street in which Bane was now leading them down. He suddenly forgot the company he was with and was swallowed up by the images around him. His head lifted and moved around while his eyes gobbled up the sites.

Bane had left them in spirit and went back to a time and place where he thrived and inspired differently, untainted by the shadows. He then stopped when landing in front of the building most left standing. Gazing up at it, it didn't take him long to notice the window at the top and far right. He stood motionless and stared, not realising that his eyes were beginning to lose their intensity and instead went soft. However, it hadn't lasted long and he was quickly startled out of it. The men from the back pulled away from the group and went speeding ahead, looking like they had eagerly and finally made it home. ...And they had.

They ran through a passageway that had been rounded off from the storms and disappeared inside. Barsad was left alone and joined up with Bane and Danvers. "This is where they've made their home," he said, leaning into Bane. The masked man squinted, looking ahead of them at the passageway and then dropping down to Barsad. "And where we will make ours," he replied and then started for the entrance.


	21. She Knows Where She's Going

**Replies: batmanbane: **Oh, stop it, you! Your reviews are absolutely so wonderful and oh-so observant. Yes, these men are part of the Moroccan gang. You'll get more of an explanation later. The chapters are going to start getting deeply intense very quickly after this, and the classification of "Romance" is going to starting showing itself. Have your paper bag ready, love! ;)

**arianrhod316:** Thank you, thank you! Glad to see you're still reviewing!

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**POV: DANVERS**

Much to her surprise, the journey from the Pit to the city was a short one. Barsad and the other men discussed quietly throughout the duration, but Bane and Danvers never said so much as word to each other. When the dirt and rocks changed underneath her fit to endless stretches of sand, the attorney took note of her surroundings. The city was not the one she had looked at, but one that had not survived a somewhat recent sandstorm. Most of the buildings were completely unoccupied, save for a few. The stopped in front of a particularly large building, and the unnamed men took of towards it.

The sun beat down on their backs and sweat began collecting on the surface of everyone's skin. Even if it had been completely cool, Bane's rigid attorney would've still been perspiring. The harsh temperature was only adding to the sweat that was already present. Sand filled the doorways and archways that Danvers assumed had once been inviting and luxurious. It was the window, the top window on the farthest right of the building that pulled her attention away from the men as they disappeared like children over the mound of sand.

"_What are you waiting for, Missy? You've been at that window all night. Come on, we're going to eat."  
"I'll meet you guys there. Go on without me." She continued staring, eyelids fluttering when a warm breeze swept across her face. It smelled like apricots, exotic spices and sand... something she never thought she would've grown to enjoy._

Danvers was rooted to where she stood. The memory had backhanded her across the faces, leaving the similar feeling of swelling welts on her face, cheeks burning. A sensation shot through her veins, causing her to tremble from head to toe. It felt like minuscule shards of broken glass were being pushed through her veins, down the lengths of her arms and legs. Her heart was pounding in her chest, so heavily, that every pump of blood it gave caused the attorney to sway forward. By the time she steadied herself, another round would bring her back to the unevenness.

It was a coincidence. She began repeating that statement in her head, over and over again until it had become a steady chant. What had happened to her ability to cope with situations? She had spent years in front of a judge, a jury, presented with the most stressful situations, threatened by some of the most terrifying people and yet here she was... sweating as she felt the colour drain from her cheeks. Logically, she had no idea where she was. She had been given no coordinates and hotels all had a similar construction. It had been so long ago... her memory may have changed. There was no true way of knowing. It was all a huge coincidence. A huge coincidence that would remain a coincidence and nothing more.

Bane's figure separated from her side, leaving a sense of panic where he had once been. Barsad did not follow, Danvers suspected it was because he had been silently instructed to follow behind her. She was steadfast, trying to unclench her fists and stop the shaking.

"I think," Her voice cracked and she coughed, choking on the unexpected dryness of her throat. One hand was brought to her neck, where she pressed against it for a moment, soothing the irritation it had brought. The attorney took a few steps back. "I'm going to stay out here for a while. I don't think I'm ready to be out of the sun, just yet."

Somewhere, deep inside her mind, something kicked her. She stumbled into another statement, to back up her previous one. "I-I-I-I'm not going to run away, I'm not trying to. Have someone keep guard, if that makes you happy. I'm just not ready to back indoors again. I have a little more respect for imprisoned men now. If that was supposed to be a lesson, it worked."

**POV: BANE**

Before completely disappearing inside, Bane stopped just under the arch and turned his head only a couple inches. He drew a box with his eyes while his mind gathered a reply. His pointer and thumb hit into each other as he released a long breath. "Hunger will lure you in," he finally said to Danvers. Exhausted from the journey and all he encountered during it, barely any patience remained. If she currently preferred to stay outside, then so be it. He wasn't going to stand in her way.

The shadows swallowed Bane whole and left Barsad to tend to Danvers on his own. It didn't worry him to leave them with each other, even with Barsad knowing what he did. There wasn't any way he would be so ignorant as to share those secrets with her - not now anyway. As he walked up the stairs to reach the higher floors, a small amount of fear eventually wiggled its way free and travelled through him.

It wasn't enough to stop Bane, however it did cause a shift in his eyebrows and breathing. With his trust being tested and toyed with as of late, he was beginning to doubt those around him. But Barsad had proven to him that he was genuinely a loyal friend and brother in arms. There wasn't any need to take precautions between him and Danvers. No, not any need at all.

Pushing the thought aside, Bane focused on finding a room to call home for the night until they were ready to proceed to their final destination. He continued up the stairs, walking heavy and holding his shoulders and head like a worn out man arriving home from work. When he heard a lot of commotion coming from one side of the building, he decided to get comfortable with the opposite and more quiet side.

When Bane reached a particular floor, there was a long row of rooms, all of which appeared to be vacant. He chose the one to the far end and with the window that had caught his attention earlier. Passing the other rooms, one by one, he could see in the corner of his eye were blank and void of life. Sand had even piled in a few of them and looked completely not liveable.

Bane was a couple feet away from his chosen room, which triggered his heart to beat faster. Unsure of what he'd find inside, he slowed down his pace and took his time getting to it. He balled his hand into a tight fist, cracking several joints in the process. The tip of his boot then touched the very edge of the light that was let in. When he filled up his chest with air, he turned the corner and laid his eyes over the room.

They instantly widened and darted about the place, hitting every corner and crevice. He was confused at its condition, seeing that it had a bed with blankets, rugs on the floor, tables, a desk, lanterns and candles. It was impossible, there wasn't anyway this could have been the only room to have survived. He decided to then step inside and feel it more intimately, despite it being overwhelming.

Bane circled slowly around, running his hand over the desk and stopping beside the side table to examine the half melted candle. As he was about to touch it, the window suddenly stole his attention. He rose his head up at it and cautiously stepped towards the opening. Leaning forward, he looked down and soon spotted the attorney still outside. It was a strange feeling, as though the tables had been turned. He felt himself inside her shoes, peering down at him into the crowd some time ago.

Bane then ripped himself away when Danvers turned her head. He continued walking backwards, not taking his eyes off the window and then finally stopped. He turned his head slowly to the bed at the side of him and stared at it. It invited him to sit down and touch it, which he eventually gave into after a few seconds debate. It creaked beneath his weight, something he hadn't experienced then, but what he was used to now.

Bane's hand laid flat on the surface of the sheets, remembering the textures he knew so well before. A small moan leaked from his mask, which he held as he scanned the bed up and down. He then began rubbing it beneath his palm, the strings catching and snapping on the calluses built up at the base of his fingers. He was hypnotised by the patterns, forgetting everything else around him and succumbing to the silence and nostalgia. "I thought I would find you here," said a voice that stopped him from diving into his suppressed memories.

Startled, Bane took back his hand and turned to the doorway. There he saw Barsad standing and removing his backpack. "She's still down below and I'm keeping an eye. I wanted to bring you this." Barsad brought the bag to him and set it down at his feet. "The feast will be soon." He paused to look into his friend's eyes, hoping to connect with what it was he was searching for. "They want you there." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "They've missed you." Saying nothing else, Barsad then turned and walked out.

**POV: DANVERS**

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She heaved a sigh and nodded. "I've been better. I can't even recall how many days and nights it has been since we left Gotham City. That should tell you something."

Barsad nodded, lowering his head. The attorney's eyes swept her surroundings, finding little things to occupy her mind with. She knew she wasn't entirely ready to face whatever the abandoned hotel had in store, but her attention was quickly drifting from her determination. After she had scoured the sand in front of her, her green orbs made their way up the building. Much to her surprise, that top window that she had first looked at, now framed Bane's large figure. She turned her head completely, staring.

She knew one thing. She didn't like the way looking at Bane through the window while she was down on the ground made her feel. It was like an unforeseen coldness that crept up behind her, slithering its icy arms around her, inviting her to imagine how it could've possibly felt when that tender-hearted young man spent all his nights watching her window. She didn't like it at all.

"I will return. Stay where you are." He didn't say it in a threatening way, but Danvers knew that if she decided to make a run for it, his compassion would quickly disintegrate. She lifted her head from her knees to nod, but returned to the position as soon as he was gone.

A warm gust blew past her, dusting her in a light layer of sand. As soon as Barsad disappeared into the archway, the doubts came. The pleasures of sitting in the sun would soon be gone. _You're being ridiculous. Go inside. There's nothing to fear but fear itself. And the fear of dehydration and possible starvation. _

She stretched out one leg and leaned to the side to push herself up. Once standing, she went to work brushing the sand off every surface she could. Her once ironed slacks were wrinkled and beyond dirty, but still, she attempted to clean herself up.

There were corridors all around her. They had once been painted brilliant shades of blue and orange, covered in tapestries of deep reds and purples. The hallways had probably been lined with lanterns that cast shadows that danced on whoever chose to walk by. She furrowed her brows. The feeling of nausea had crawled back into her stomach.

"Ah!"

She spun around, eyes wide. A man had turned the corner and was now walking towards her, smiling. Two others followed him, and instantly, Danvers felt as if she was being cornered. They were speaking to her in a language that she didn't understand, but since that had seemed to the theme of this journey, she was beginning to get used to it.

"I don't know what you're saying... I'm looking for Bane." She put her one hand up above her head, hoping to indicate Bane's size and translate what she wanted. Their responses were boisterous and held an enthusiasm that only further confused her. "Bane, I'm looking for him. Don't touch me."

Danvers crossed her arms over her chest for two reasons, one of which was to prevent any unwelcome glances, and the other being a simple fact; she was starting to get annoyed. Taking a deep breath in, she gained control of her irritation, reminding herself that the communication gap was a common misunderstanding, she was hungry and lashing out at these men would do her no good in the long run.

"I don't know what you're saying, but if you could just - hey, I don't think so! Take your hands off of me!" She stopped to glare at the nearest one, who had placed his hand on her shoulder. Danvers didn't pause to gather a logical string of thoughts. These men were probably well aware that she wasn't up for grabs, but the fact remained that they were grabbing at her, pulling her towards a nearby hallway.

"Thank you," she breathed, while hurrying past her saviour.

"Forgive them. They weren't trying to hurt you. They're excited." Barsad's words trailed off as he extended an arm, showing Danvers to the sand-covered staircase. He didn't give her a chance to inquire what they were excited for. "You're looking for Bane."

She hesitated at the first step, swallowing down whatever nerves she had. Danvers turned to look at him, brows laced together. "I... I just figured that staying out there was probably not the best idea... I'm dehydrated."

He gave a short nod, his brown eyes soft like those of a deer. "Bane will join us later. Come with me."

One of her fingers remained, floating as it still extended towards the staircase. Barsad had promised that she would fed and hydrated, though the attorney dithered, unsure of travelling into another portion of this unknown hotel.

Eventually, she gave into the complaints of her stomach. Almost grudgingly, she moved past Barsad, down a corridor. When the sturdy footsteps of his boots didn't follow, she paused and turned. He stood where she had left him, staring back at her, aghast.

"Is something wrong? Do you know where we're going?"

"You do."

Danvers froze, her muscles going rigid again. She had been travelling down the hallway, following a path that she felt she had been down before. When Barsad had something, it was if her fear had tried to wipe her memory clean. "Wh-what? No... No, I don't. I'm just following my nose. I can... I can smell the food."

He nodded silently, as if he had resolved to end any further discussion. There was a smile on his face as he passed her, placing the hand on the small of her back to urge her forward. He guided her through a door. The men were gathered around a large, low table in the middle of the room, already picking at the plates of food that had been arranged there. Everyone paused in their celebrating to turn and greet them. Barsad responded with a similar greeting, but much quieter than they had. Although this room had not escaped the sand entirely, it had been decorated. Ill-assorted cushions were stuffed into every corner, even lining the entirety of the room.

Barsad chose a spot near the end of the table, but left the large purple cushion at the corner for Danvers. "It's alright," he said, coaxing her closer. Danvers' nerves were going wild, like live wires that had been snipped and chopped at until they were frayed and pointing in every direction possible. Pressing her palms against her thighs to hide the shaking, she crouched down next to Barsad, and eventually rolled into a sitting position.


	22. Lessons Learned

**REPLIES: _batmanbane: _**Merci beaucoup, ma amie!I know how much you favour Barsad and you're going to have plenty to talk about in the next few chapters, m'dear! Thank you for your lovely write up on your blog!

**_arianrhod316:_** It'll only get worse before it gets better! ;) Thanks for reading/reviewing, as always!

**NOTES:** Your loyalty has paid off! The next chapters are going to change now and Michelle is going to be forced to remember everything she's suppressed all those years! Also, Bane's writer (bless his soul) has started putting translations for you guys for anything that is said in Moroccan Arabic! Enjoy!

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**POV: BANE**

After nourishing himself, Bane left the room to join the others. His agenda there would not consist of eating, but rather uncover the mystery guests that were awaiting him. The closer he got to the room, the louder he could hear their joyful voices and occasional laughter accompanied with clapping. There was a warm glow escaping from the doorway, which flickered and blinked while people passed by it.

Bane paused before entering, listening for a bit before becoming the centre of attention. His eyes floated to the side, looking regretful. He was uncertain if Danvers had joined them and turned his head around to where the stairs led to the lower floors. For a second, he felt compelled to check on her and perhaps convince her to come inside and eat. But the moment faded along with the longing glimmer in his eye as he turned back to the room.

Deciding to step inside, Bane approached the entry way and passed through. While stroking a piece of chord with both hands, his shadow crept up those closest to the entry. He paused and scanned the room as it went quiet, searching for Barsad. When he spotted his face, it startled him to see Danvers nearby as well. Bane bowed his head and nodded softly as he lead himself towards the two, taking heavy steps.

Ignoring the fact that heads were turning and following with his every step, Bane continued on with his sight ahead of him. It wasn't until he reached the head of the table that he'd finally acknowledge the group. While pulling up his pants at the knees, Bane aimed his rear at the seat and eased himself down onto the cushion, grunting as he did. He then lifted his head and shared his gaze amongst the men, giving each one an individual dose of his chilling stare.

A few men held their food halfway, while others put down their handfuls completely. Though, everyone had stopped chewing and waited in silence to hear their saviour speak. When Bane had enough of their faces, he finally rested on Danvers. His eyes softened and slowly closed and opened again. His body swayed a bit, though not noticeably and his breathing was serene. The fidgeting his fingers were doing suddenly ceased as he recognised the golden glow of the lantern hitting her face.

Bane could feel as his mind fought to bring him back, having been in this place so long ago and with the same company. Though, the darkness in him was still present and remained strong enough to keep back the innocence. His eyebrows grew heavy again and the energy in him tightened. "So, you decided to join us." His attention remained on her, while breathing a couple times before nodding and sitting back. "Good," he said happily and then waved a hand through the air at the men as his back leaned into the wall. "Go on. Kol_ (eat)_."

The men hesitantly removed their gazes from Bane and exchanged them with their neighbours. It took one man sticking his fingers into his mouth and then another and then another to get the entirety of the group back eating again. Once everyone was back to filling their bellies, Bane turned to Danvers and squinted. "Why aren't you eating?" he asked directly and then released the muscles in his eyes.

**POV: DANVERS**

The moment that Bane walked in, the atmosphere of the room changed. For the men, it became tense, but for Danvers, her heart seized up and then released with her exhale, serving as a reminder that she had been overwrought without him. _Client attachment_, she thought. _Entitlement or responsibility to protect him or her. _Somewhere, something within her tried to argue her exorbitantly logical justification and replace it with a more tender reason, but the attorney ignored it until her jaw began to ache from clenching it so hard.

Up until that point, Barsad had been reassuring Danvers, appealing to her as friend by trying to talk her down from her frazzled state of mind. The attorney had been unsuccessful in ingratiating herself into the company. She had remained stock still from the moment she sat down, shivering gently in a cold sweat, plagued by something that she wouldn't acknowledge. Her green eyes watched as the plates of food were passed around, hungrily gobbled up by the hands of the men. Dish after dish was traded off, then brought back once it had made its rounds.

"She's confused, brother! She doesn't know what is being passed around." Barsad's accent was heavy, but heavier tinted with mischief. Danvers wouldn't hear it, but he expected that Bane would. A few of the men laughed, nodding. Occasionally, a pair of eyes would linger in her direction, asking questions that wouldn't be answered.

"No," she started, hesitating as another plate was placed in front of her. The fear of memories surfaced again, causing her to back-pedal, whining to forget anything she'd remember. "No, that's not it. I don't know what these dishes are but..." Her sentence trailed off as she met Bane's hard eyes. "I'm just... I'm not hungry."

She was lying, blatantly, and she knew it. Her stomach hadn't stopped growling since she'd sunk into the cushion that Barsad pulled her to. Instantly, she dropped his glance, feeling too guilty to continue any interaction.

"Here," Barsad interjected, hoping to disprove her statement in front of Bane. "This is called Bastilla. Try it."

"Bastilla," she whispered so inaudibly, that only the only indication that she had spoken at all was the subtle movement of her lips. No one heard her over the clamour of the feasting. The aroma of the delicate, crispy dough, the cinnamon and spiced meat gave its title away to the attorney long before Barsad had announced its name. The plate was set in front of her, but went ignored. With eyes glassy and distant, her fingers quivered as she reached up and pushed it back to Barsad. "No... th-thank you."

Almost absentmindedly, her hand dipped into the woven basket nearest her, pulling out a thick triangle of bread. It was still warm, and Danvers' thumb made indents on the soft crust. She turned her eyes towards Bane, brought the piece to her mouth and ripped off a small corner. She chewed slowly, savouring every taste. Although she had intended the bread to act as something to get Bane's icy stare off her forehead, it had reminded the attorney of how hungry she actually was. It would be difficult for her to deny any additional food that was offered to her.

"There," she said, swallowing. "Your attorney is eating now. She was starving, and now she's eating. Satisfied?"

**POV: BANE**

In the corner of his eyes, Bane watched as the dish was offered to Danvers. He waited for her reaction and upon seeing the minuscule hint of anxiety, breathed out angrily as he moved his eyes forward. He then pocketed the chord, leaning to the side so far that he rubbed elbows unknowingly with Barsad, who turned momentarily to him. But when he saw that he was not needed, he turned back to Danvers.

When the chord was tucked completely inside, Bane sat back again and observed the activity about the table just as he had observed them before some time ago. These men were happy, healthy, and survived this entire time on their own. It was miraculous to him, watching a city dry up into a wasteland, but still be nourishing enough to allow these men to thrive. Though, he'd witnessed something like it before with Gotham. And because of Talia and because of the League, he believed a city couldn't survive after being ripped of its innards.

Obviously proven wrong, Bane witnessed the rebirth of Gotham... and many other things, for that matter. He realised and harshly learned that from bad comes good and from good comes bad. Maybe not every time, but it had started a pattern with him. He had seen a city destroyed and on its knees, only to rise up again more powerful than ever. A man, so broken from the loss of his parents, utilising his own fear as his weapon to achieve justice. And then came the opposite, the seed of good only to blossom a poison flower.

Talia, an innocent little girl whom he protected with his life and showed nothing but love to, transformed into a women possessed by her father's destiny. A protector, himself who sacrificed his life for orphans and the well being of the less fortunate, tarnished by the League, Ra's, and Talia. He'd turned into the very thing that Ra's thought him of; a monster. And his only saving grace now sat directly beside him.

But like a child with a toy, Bane didn't know how to treat her properly. Instead of showing her the tenderness she deserved, he stretched her to her limits. And once again, he was at it. When she bit into the bread and showed him she was eating, Bane stared hard into her face before snatching her wrist. "You _did_ learn a lesson, _ATTORNEY,"_ he mocked as he shared his gaze between the bread and her eyes. "And picked up their eating habits as well!"

Bane then pinched the bread between his fingers and plucked it from her grasp, throwing it onto the table. The men were too loud and too focused on their food to notice the commotion that was happening. The masked man then threw back Danvers' wrist and rose up while looking down at her. "Your short time there doesn't make you a specialist. You know _nothing_ of prison," he wheezed. His movements were sluggish as he turned to walk away. Appalled by this, Barsad called out to him, which Bane acknowledged by moving his head to face him. "I'll be in he-..." He paused, catching himself and growling. "My room. What's the sense, really, of me being here?" he answered him, along with gesturing with his hand at his mask.

Turning to finally leave this time, Bane disappeared around the corner. He stopped as soon as the golden light had ended and was consumed by the blue glow from the moon outside. His head dropped and his eyes lingered on the path that led him back to the room. He didn't want to be there, not now anyway. Instead, he headed the way he came in and ended up outside. The air had cooled down reasonably and now felt refreshing against his skin. As he stepped out into the street, he hanged his hands on his collar and stopped when he reached the centre.

Looking up, Bane could see the stars. So many years he spent looking up and dreaming. He dreamt of a new life outside the pit while looking up through the hole, but most importantly dreamt of a new life with a woman while looking up at a window. But that all changed when he was rescued and made into a machine. Then it was only looking down or bowing his head, being submissive to those he served. However, he found himself looking up again, being trapped in a prison that he could not escape... the denial of his past... the denial of his undying love for Danvers.

The thought caused Bane to sharply breath in, which was shaky and unanticipated. He kept his eyes high above, staying still on a single star. They then began to water and eventually a single tear escaped out of the corner, landing on his knuckle.


End file.
